


Guessing Game

by itsallAvengers



Category: Avengers, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: A Big Hug, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Tony Stark, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kidnapping, M/M, Protective Steve Rogers, Skrull(s), Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Temporary Amnesia, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 10:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12746256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallAvengers/pseuds/itsallAvengers
Summary: Tony's woken up and he can't remember a thing. There's also a knife-shaped hole in his leg, which isn't fun. But it's okay. He's got Steve....ItisSteve, right?





	Guessing Game

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a kind of messy fic that began in my tumblr drafts and accidentally grew into a 20k fic. Don't ask. I am a master at procrastination. Anyway, enjoy!  
> (Warning: This fic contains elements of non-con. Nothing graphic or explicitly stated, and I can't explain without spoiling parts of the fic, but if that sort of thing bothers you, I just wanted to let you know)

When Tony woke up, he was in Steve’s arms.

 

For a happy couple of seconds, he thought he must have just drifted off on the couch with Steve wrapped around him. Then, of course, he made the mistake of shifting a little, and felt the pain spike up his leg like a bolt of lightning.

Well fuck. That didn't bode well.

“Hey. shhh,” Steve said above him, mouth pressing into his temple softly as gentle hands curled tighter around his waist, “just relax, baby, it’s fine, you’re fine- we’re in the underground bunkers beneath the Avengers tower, you've hurt your leg, but you’re gonna be okay. I got you.”

Tony moaned a little, eyes fluttering open. Everything was dark; the only source of light coming from the emergency LED’s lining the room. His leg hurt like a motherfucker. “What- what the hell happened?”

There was silence, and then a hand worriedly through his hair, fingertips feeling along his scalp. “Fuck, you must have hit your...we were in a fight, Tony, don’t you remember? Have been for the past two days- there are Skrulls all over New York, they’re trying to- we’ve been holding fort in the tower, but they managed to get through a couple of hours ago. I don’t... you got injured, you didn’t have the suit, I had to get you away but I don’t know if anyone else-”

Steve broke away, sucking in a sharp, shaking breath. Tony could feel his heartbeat, fast and scared, under his ear, and automatically reached out for Steve’s hand. Their fingers curled together tightly, and it seemed to give Steve the strength he needed to continue. 

“They told me to take you and run. You’re the only one who knows how to stop them, Tony. I don’t- you’re the only chance we have- that the team have. If the Skrulls have taken the tower, then they’ve taken the Avengers. They’re gonna look like the rest of the team. We can’t- we can’t trust anyone, from here on in.”

Tony frowned, trying to process the deluge of words. He couldn’t remember a thing from the past couple of days, but when he lifted a hand up to the particularly aching part of his head, it came back bloody.  
Well. That certainly explained it.

“Wait- did you say they’re gonna look like the others?” Tony asked again, sitting up gingerly, “that sounds... fucking annoying.”

Steve laughed, and it sounded like the one he made when he was feeling particularly stressed. His head fell into his hands, just for a moment, before he breathed out and sat up straight once more. “You’re telling me. God- it’s been a long 48 hours.” He paused, turning to Tony a little, his warm hand wrapping gently around Tony’s jaw. “You scared me for a while back there. I couldn’t get you to move, you just kept...”

He broke off, shaking his head and then smiling reassuringly. “But you’re okay now. And we’re gonna get out of this, sweetheart, I promise. Before the tower got stormed, you’d been working on a machine. To scan for Skrulls in a body. Do you really- do you really not remember any of that?” He asked softly when Tony looked confused.

“I remember waking up with you,” Tony said slowly, racking his brains. It only made his head bang harder, though. “It was a Sunday. We always sleep in on Sundays, so I...can’t remember anything else,” he finished weakly, and Steve looked concerned, but he just clenched his jaw and pressed a soft kiss to Tony’s temple.

They sat there in one another’s embrace for a moment, before he felt another sharp little breath fall from Steve’s mouth. “They- God, Tony, they looked just like... there was one that was- he was _me._  He- fuck, he killed two agents right in front of me, and then looked me in the eyes and turned to you-” 

Steve looked haunted as he said “he shot you in the head. You’d been- you’d been running to him, to me, and he shot you in the fucking head and- and I thought-”

“It wasn’t me,” Tony assured him hurriedly, catching on to the thought process as Steve shook underneath him, “it was a Skrull. Whatever they are. I’m fine, baby, look-”

Pressing their foreheads together, despite the unholy throb it brought Tony, he shut his eyes and just breathed with Steve, calming his rapid gulps of air to steadier, calmer ones. 

“Luckily, when a Skrull bites the dust, they turn back to their original forms,” Steve said, voice still a little harsh as he laughed slightly hysterically, “it turned back. Just as the real you- just as Natasha threw the real you into my arms and told me to run.”

“Where are we running _to_ , exactly?” Tony asked, looking up at him.

“SHIELD labs, down in Queens,” Steve answered, “they want you to build them that- the machine thingy? You said you were able to create a scanner that could tell who was who, and not gonna lie, we could really use that right now.” He pursed his lips, eyes flicking down to the deep gash that had somehow found itself carved into Tony’s thigh. “Not before we get you fixed up first, though. I’m worried about your head. You really don’t remember anything?”

Tony shook his head. “I’ll be fine,” he assured stubbornly, “but if it’s as bad as you say it is, we need to get moving.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Steve hummed his agreement. “Tony- this is going to be difficult,” he said seriously, “these Skrulls- they’re good. You see one, and they’re going to lie to you. They’re going to manipulate you and try and use any method they can to get you to believe them. But you  _can’t,_ okay-” Steve gripped his shoulder tight, looking afraid as he clutched Tony like a lifeline, “you cannot. You just- it’s just me, Tony. I’m the only person you can trust right now. You have to understand that. Me, right here- I’m the only real thing in your life right now, understand?”

Tony looked up at him, and found nodding along the easiest thing in the world. Steve was often the only real thing in his life anyway- deadly shapeshifting aliens or no. “I understand.”

Steve paused, before seeming to believe Tony and sighing. Slowly, he brought them both up; Tony leaning heavily on Steve’s side for support as his leg screamed in agony. God only knew what he’d done to the thing.

“There, there- easy,” Steve soothed, peppering feather-light kisses over Tony’s face in the way he always did when he was trying to comfort, “I can imagine that probably hurts like a motherfucker- but you gotta hold out for me okay? just for a bit. The tunnels- they come up in the basement of the public Library, right?” He paused for a moment, thinking. “That’ll be about an hour.”

Inwardly, Tony groaned. Outwardly, he nodded. “Easy as pie,” he gritted, whilst Steve just laughed in exasperated fondness and stroked the hair from his eyes.

“We’ll stop as many times as you need to,” Steve said, frown creasing his perfect face.

“From what you just said, the world kind of needs me to hurry, Steve.”

“Well the world will have to wait,” was the stubborn answer he got in response, and Tony just rolled his eyes, taking a tentative step forward.

Okay. Not so bad. Just rolling agony- nothing he couldn’t deal with. Clenching his teeth and squeezing tight to Steve’s shoulder, they both began walking down the corridor in the bowels of the Avengers Tower.

Tony, in all honesty, had never even thought he’d need these tunnels. Guess that’s what came with having a flying suit, after all. Paranoia had won over in the end, though, and so he’d built dozens of them, spidering under the tower and all leading out to different, secret places. Here, there was no JARVIS. No cameras. No surveillance at all, aside from microphones that blared some obnoxious-sounding alarms if there was fire or water flooding the tunnels. Apart from that, though, they were just escape exits littered with weapons biometrically shackled to the walls.   
In this instance, he was very glad of his paranoia. He and Steve might never have made it out alive if it hadn’t nagged him, all those years ago, to have a last resort.

Fuck. They were really on last resort. The rest of the team had really- they’d... Steve had said...

 

No. He wasn’t going to think about that right now. He had to be strong. And he really had to start remembering whatever it was he’d apparently come up with before he’d mashed his brains on a sharp object.

 

Shutting his eyes and leaning head cheek into Steve’s shoulder a little, he sighed. “Why is it always us who get the most complex of villains? Couldn’t someone just try and rob a bank like the old fashioned guys, for once?”

Steve chuckled softly. “Would certainly be easier than this,” he admitted quietly. 

They turned a corner, and Tony spotted the first box, fixed up to the wall. He breathed out in relief. Without the suit, he felt naked and exposed in the corridor. A gun would sure help. Patting Steve’s shoulder, he directed them sideways. Steve squinted at the box, but when they came closer, he smiled softly. “Always prepared, aren’t you?” he murmured, as Tony grinned up at him. 

He lifted a hand, but suddenly felt it blocked by a gentle hold. Looking over to Steve curiously, he raised an eyebrow. 

“Are we sure no one is monitoring the activity down here?” Steve asked. “Do we want to risk it? I can fight enough for the both of us, if we have to-”

“The whole system’s sealed off from the rest of the tower,” Tony explained, “they run on entirely different frequencies. It’s fine, Steve.”

There was a brief silence, and then a nod. “I trust you,” was spoken in the half-light.

Tony hummed, and then pressed his fingerprint into the lock, spare hand working at the 15 digit pin on the keyboard beside it . A second of nothing, and then the door clicked, and Tony pulled out a semi automatic from the depths of the container, sighing in relief as he felt the weight in his hands.

That was better,

Cocking it, sliding off safety and then tucking it into the back of his pants, Tony clapped once into the silent corridor. “Right. Let’s go save the world. Again.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They had to stop a few times, whilst Tony clamped his eyes shut and swore into the empty corridors, the only balm for his wounds being Steve’s soft fingers across his back- but they kept moving. He made sure of it. He wasn’t going to lie down and give up just because of some stupid leg.

 

They were walking slowly, making quiet conversation to try and ignore the crushing pressure and pain lying on both their shoulders, when suddenly Steve stopped. Jerked to a halt, right in the middle of a sentence.

Tony instinctively shut up, his years of working by Steve’s side telling him that the supersolider had undoubtedly sensed something that Tony had not. He looked to Steve, mind racing a million miles an hour. The tunnels under the tower were a maze- Steve said he’d sealed the main entrance shut, but there was always the chance of someone breaking through, and once they were in, most tunnels and corridors led out to the main corridor they were both walking down-

“Someone’s here,” Steve mouthed, before pushing them quickly into a thinner, smaller corridor. “Tony- Tony, baby, I know what you’re gonna say, but I need you to stay here whilst I go and deal with them-”

“Fuck that,” Tony hissed immediately, “I’m not just leaving you to-”

“Tony, you can’t _walk,”_ Steve bit out, and okay, whatever, he might have had a point, but Tony didn’t fucking  _care,_  he was scared as shit in the darkened corridors, and if Steve left, God only knew what might come back in his place. “I need to go and see who’s there. It might be SHIELD, for all we know.”

“And it might be another Steve,” Tony fired back, “how the hell am I- what if you come back and it’s not  _you?”_

His voice had turned to a breathless, terrified whisper as he looked up at Steve, standing practically nose to nose with the man as they backed up against a wall and hid in the shadows.

Steve paused, and then rested his forehead into Tony’s again. “Something only I’ll know,” he murmured, “give me a code. I’ll come back, and the first thing you ask me is that, okay? If I don’t say it within three seconds-” his hand rested over Tony’s, over the one curled around the barrel of the gun, “you know what to do.”

Tony realised his hands were shaking, and it hit him all at once, just how scared he was. He couldn’t remember  _anything._  He was badly injured, to the point where he wasn’t even able to stand without assistance. There were people wearing the faces of those he loved, and the real ones he loved could well be dead. 

Steve pressed his mouth to Tony’s for a moment, then rose to his forehead. “I won’t let anything happen to you. We need you to get out. We need that machine. I need you safe. Just trust me, okay? I’m the only person you can trust right now, remember?”

“I’m a little teapot,” Tony blurted, and then when Steve looked confused for a moment, Tony just waved a frantic hand, “the code. Sing it. When I- when I ask what you are, you sing that to me, alright?”

Steve froze, brow creasing a little. “What’s- just sing the verse to me, so I remember.”

Tony did, hurried and shaky, and Steve listened intently, before smiling and giving Tony another kiss. “Understood. Remember- the fakes might be wearing different clothes, they might not be bleeding where I am,” Steve pointed to the cut on his head, then cupped his hand around Tony’s jaw. 

“We’re gonna be okay,” Tony whispered, “come back to me, alright? Promise me, Steve.”

Steve looked him in the eye. “I swear,” he murmured- and then he was turning the corner, creeping away whilst Tony pressed up into the shadows and held his gun aloft with shaking hands.

 

* * *

 

 

Ten minutes of deafening silence.

 

Of waiting and wondering and barely holding back the desperate desire to follow Steve, injury be damned, and help him. He knew it would just end up killing both of them, though- he couldn’t put Steve in danger like that. He had to think logically, and he had to think about how best to keep Steve alive. Right now- this was the best option they had.

There was a dull thud down the corridor, sudden and almost deafeningly loud in the overwhelming silence of the hallways, and Tony barely stopped his breath hitching in fear. Skrull or not, Steve’s hearing was enhanced. He’d hear it.

Raising his gun and steeling his grip, he waited. Heard the footsteps slowly get closer, louder. Forced his heartbeat to calm as the shadows appeared from around the corner.

Steve stepped forward, hands raised in surrender, and looked at him. He was bleeding. A cut on his eyebrow, running over his eye, and half of his shirt had been ripped since Tony had last seen him.  
Different. He looked different.

“What are you,” Tony hissed, gun going straight to Steve’s head, “God fucking dammit, Steve, what are y-”

“I’m a little teapot,” Steve replied quickly, “short and stout. Here’s my handle, here’s my spout.” He flicked his fingers against his cheek at that, and Tony stared at him for a moment, before something like a half sigh, half moan was pulled from his lips and the hand holding his gun fell back into his lap with a thump. Swallowing, he attempted to get back onto his feet, but was stopped when his leg gave out again, the pain only seeming to be getting worse.

“No no, baby, just stay-” and suddenly Steve was there, next to him, helping him up with gentle hands and soft kisses, “it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s me, you’re fine-”

“Ten minutes, four seconds,” Tony breathed, hands winding around Steve’s neck and holding tight, burying his head into the man’s neck and just breathing, “you better have fucking killed them.”

Steve laughed. “Two of them,” he admitted, “one got away. It was- God, they looked like us, Tony. You and Me and Clint. I killed- I got you and Clint,” and boy- didn’t he look haunted when he said that, “but...the one that looked like me, he got out. Nearly trapped me in the door seals- it put him on one side and me on the other, though, so hopefully they won’t find us again.”

“We’re nearly there,” Tony assured him, stroking a hand through the matted hair of Steve’s, “twenty more minutes walking, by my count. We can make i-”

There was a sudden, random burst of static in the air, and both of them ducked on instinct, Steve flinching back and protecting his own head whilst Tony copied. It made his sore head throb, but was soon cut off as whoever (whatever) it was that had been trying to take control of the alarm system was either kicked out or-

_“Tony? Tony, I need you to listen to me,”_

He jerked his head up, eyes widening at the unmistakable sound of Steve’s own voice coming through the speaker system, frantic and filled with barely contained panic.

 

_“Tony, sweetheart, **that’s not me.** The person you’re with right now is not me-”_

 

“Tony?” And that voice was softer, the hand on his face delicate as a thumb swept across his cheekbone, “you remember what I said? About the lying? The manipulation? Just ignore him, okay, he’s trying to get in your head-”

His eyes met with Steve, mouth moving wordlessly until Steve kissed him slowly. Steve’s hand trailed to the back of Tony’s neck and held him steady, grounding him. Tony; exhausted and hurting and scared, just sunk into it gladly.

Lying. It was a skrull. It was trying to get into his head.

 _“We were fighting them four hours ago, Tony-”_  there was a crashing sound in the distance, and yells came through in the background,  _“it hasn’t been going on for two days, New York’s not been taken over. But we’d known about what they could do for weeks, we were preparing for invasion, and you developed something that could pick them out and they needed you to forget, they needed you to forget so they drugged y-”_

Clenching his jaw, he pulled out the gun tucked into his jeans and fired twice at the nearest speaker in the corner of the wall. A few wires hissed and sparked as the bullets cracked through the mechanism, but then silence fell again.

Tony was breathing hard, gun still held aloft as he stared up at the now ruined speaker. He thought back, to the months he’d spent building these tunnels, the routes and the weapons supplies and the door seals that wouldn’t work unless a member of the Avengers scanned them through with either a fingerprint and a string of 15 numbers, or Tony’s own personal voice activated code that he’d designed in case he needed isolation from the Avengers themselves. Pretty useless now, considering there were aliens running around like exact copies of every single one of them- although the codes were still viable. He hoped.

“Steve,” he said quietly, after a few moments of silence. The gun in his hand felt heavier than it had a few seconds ago. “When’s my birthday?”

There was a short pause, and Tony’s fingers flexed against the barrel before he heard Steve’s voice, piercing and confident.“May 29th. This year I took you to Venice- ‘though God only knows how I managed to wrangle three whole days off work. You got food poisoning though. Still angry about that- you’d expect a five star restaurant to have better silver service.”

Tony smiled and shut his eyes in relief. His head dropped into Steve’s shoulder, and warm hands crept around his back. “Keep doing that,” he murmured into Tony’s hair, “just so you know that it’s me. I’m the only one you can trust, right?”

“Yeah. I know,” Tony rubbed a dirty hand across a dirtier face and let his head drop into Steve’s shoulder.

 Steve looked down at him, and smiled softly as he placed his mouth over Tony’s temple. “Onward and upward?”

“Onward and upward,” Tony agreed. 

 

* * *

 

 

They were ten minutes out from the library when Tony collapsed.

 

Well. He said ‘collapsed’, but really he just sort of slumped entirely into Steve’s hold and blacked out for a second, head rolling uselessly against the handy shoulder nearby. Next time his eyes opened, his head was leaning against something colder- a wall or the floor, perhaps- and Steve was directly in front of him, all worried eyes and hovering hands.

“m’fine,” he slurred, “jus’....need a minute,” 

“Fuck,” Steve muttered, “we don’t  _have_ a minute- someone’s coming, Tony, there are more of them, they must have found way in from the other side, we need to get you to SHIELD so you can build that damn thing and-”

“Right, okay, fucking...right,” Tony raised a hand, gripped Steve’s shoulder, “lift me up,” he muttered.

Steve looked stricken. “I- I, Tony, you can barely-”

“Lift. Me. _Up,_ ” Tony gritted, steeling himself. Steve bit his lip, then shut his eyes and pressed his forehead into Tony’s, “we’re gonna be okay,” he muttered, a bloody hand (his blood? Or Tony’s?) wrapping around the back of his neck and gripping. “I’m g-”

There was a sudden clattering from ahead, and Tony watched in horror as something- something  _blew through the wall_  and-

 

“Get the fuck away from him.”

 

Tony’s eyes widened.   
Steve. That was... another Steve. Bloodier and angrier and altogether looking like he’d been through a hell of a lot more than the real Steve, but still-   
Still Steve.

 

Tony stared at him, but Fake Steve had his eyes fixed on the real one, the one still clutching Tony’s face between his hands.

 

And then, faster than Tony could even have blinked, Fake Steve pulled out a knife, sending it flying through the air in a burst of reflected light that was headed right for them-

 

Steve pulled away at the last second, throwing himself away from Tony, and he felt the blade brush against his nose in a hiss of air.

“Fuck,” Real Steve cursed as his back hit the opposing wall, “Tony, whatever happens, remember- trust  _me,_  alright, only me, you underst-”

“Don’t fucking T _ALK TO HIM,”_ The Fake roared, and Tony could only throw himself to the floor and cover his head as a bullet rang through the room, “don’t talk to him like he’s yours, you sick fucking _bastard-”_

Real Steve jumped to his feet, and the Fake was running down the corridor, and Tony _still_ couldn’t stand without some fucking assistance, but then there was gun in his hands and he was aiming for the Fake as it charged toward them, feeling something  instinctively  _gutwrenching_  envelop him as he fired upon the person who looked exactly like the man Tony’s whole fucking life revolved around-

 

it missed. By an inch. But, in all fairness, Tony  _was_ dying.

 

The fake stopped moving, though- and so Real Steve paused by Tony’s side, a hand going out defensively as Tony attempted to sit up off the floor properly. 

The fake Steve had his gun trained to Real Steve’s head, but his eyes flicked over to Tony for a second, analysing. When they reached the wound on Tony’s leg, his fury only seemed to increase, and he breathed in a gust of air that sounded more like a growl as he made to move-

“Another step and you die, buddy,” Tony told him, it, whatever the _fuck_ it was, quietly.

The fake stopped. Looked over to Tony- and it _wasn’t_ Steve, it wasn’t, but God, the face he made was familiar. “You don’t want to kill me,” he shook his head, “Tony, he’s been... they took me out and swapped me for that thing days ago in preparation for this-”

“Don’t listen to him,” Real Steve said quietly, clenching his jaw and getting in a battle-ready stance, “you know the truth Tony, you know what’s really happening. Trust me, remember? Only me.”

“We were planning for a Skrull invasion for weeks before they actually came. You had the designs for a device that could spot when a body was real or Skrull,” Fake Steve continued, eyes flicking between him and Real Steve every moment, gun never wavering from Real Steve’s forehead. “they found out. kidnapped me and put me on their mothership, then got one of their own to take my place a couple of days back, so they could find a perfect opportunity to take you. Luckily, when they came down to Earth to attempt their attack, I broke out. Came back to look for you.”

“Bullshit,” Tony cocked the gun and shook his head.

“What makes you say that?” Fake Steve asked, smiling vaguely. Blood was dripping into his eye. “You woke up unable to remember anything, right? You just believed what he told you. I watched- I watched you go down, sw- Tony. The whole team did. You ran to him because you thought- you thought it was me.” 

His jaw clenched even tighter and his eyes hardened as he turned to Real Steve, “and he knocked you out and carried you off, right in-fucking-front of me.”

  
Tony was about to scoff, but it ended up dying a little in his throat. Because... 

 

Fake Steve had a point. He _didn’t_ know what had happened. He- he’d just seen Steve holding him and assumed-

“Last week I made you wear socks to bed because your toes were so cold,” Real Steve said, as evenly as ever, and Tony looked to him with a jerk. That was true. And- and the thing, before, with the food poisoning and the birthday trip- that too, and only Steve could possibly know that.

“You keep all the cartoon drawings I make you in your desk, third drawer down to the right,” the Other Steve responded swiftly, brutally, clearly looking to try and one up his identical twin as he drew his gaze back to him and snarled, lip curling upward. He was baring his teeth. Steve only ever did that when he was really, really pissed.

Tony looked between them, growing more and more confused with every passing second. Steve had told Tony to trust him. Only him. But- but the other Steve knew all this, knew exactly the same things his own Steve did, except one of them was good and one of them was evil and _Tony didn’t know-_

“Tony, shoot him,” Real- the Steve closest to him said, voice calm and gentle, “do it now.”

“The Team have been searching for you down here. We’re going to get you out and have that leg seen to. If you go with him, they’re going to get the blueprints from that device out of you using whatever means necessary, and then they’re going to reverse engineer it, break it apart until they know exactly how to work against it,” the other Steve told him, fast and hurried, “Tony, darling, _please-_  I know you’re hurting, I know you’re confused, but you have to-”

“Tony, what did I tell you about who to trust?” Tony turned, fast and jerky and with steadily growing panic, as the Steve nearest to him stared, almost betrayed. Begging. Desperate, Tony could hardly fucking bear it; he _had_  to be telling the truth, no one could act that well- “I picked you up and dragged you out of there so we could get to SHIELD! You have to believe me- if I was a Skrull, why even bother pretending?”

  
“So that he would come quietly,” came the reply behind him, and God, God, Tony didn’t know what to do- he was so confused, and his leg hurt so bad, he didn’t know how much longer he was even going to last-

  
There was the sound of rumbling up ahead in the corridor, and dull yelling. The Steve standing over Tony looked up for a moment, but the other Steve’s gaze didn’t waver. Whenever he had a target, it didn’t ever leave his sights.

Slowly, Tony looked up at the man he’d been following for the past hour, and felt the first flickers of mistrust flare in his gut.

“The Avengers are coming,” said Beat-up-Steve (because who the fuck even knew which one was real and which one was fake, Tony was hoping to God that the man by his side was genuine, but he couldn’t promise it, and that scared him one hell of a lot). He looked about ready to raze the ground the other Steve stood on, and Tony was pretty sure there’d be dents in the barrel of the gun he was holding if he ever released it. “Surrender right now.”

Silence. Then “I think I should be the one saying that to y-”

 _“Surrender right now_ , and I will make your death as quick and painless as I can bring myself to,” Beat-up Steve Growled, and Tony could see the barely contained fury in his stance; the body that seemed to be running on his anger and adrenaline alone, because the guy was in a mighty shit state and he certainly  _seemed_  to be sporting the telltale signs of torture.

The Steve beside him was still holding position, defensively stood over Tony with one arm out. He glanced up with a gaze that was unfocused, dizzy- but from that angle, it meant he was just staring at the back of Steve’s head, not his-

 

Wait. 

 

Steve Rogers... certainly did not have a little black implant just behind his ear.

 

 

The first thought that went through Tony’s head was, of course, _‘oh fuck, he tricked me.’_  
The second was a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, mixed with deep revulsion at the intimacy he’d extended to a  _fucking alien_  pretending to be the love of his life.   
The final thought told him to swing his gun around and take out the alien wearing Steve’s face like it was even infinitesimally worthy of it. And so that’s what he did.

 

Or, at least- tried to do, Skrull or not, it seemed that the Steve looming over him had the same fast reflexes, because before Tony had moved more then an inch, the barrel was caught swiftly by a hand no longer soft and gentle, but cold and rough and yanking forward, pulling him out of place and sending a burst of agony shooting straight through his head, his  _leg-_

“Okay, okay, game over, I guess,” the Newly Discovered Fake Steve hauled Tony in front, standing him between the path of the gun in Real Steve’s hand and his own body, “took you long enough,  _sweetheart,”_  the last word was spat into the side of his face and Tony flinched wildly, barely even holding onto consciousness as pain roiled through him from the way he was being gripped.

Fuck.  _Steve_. Steve was not Steve. He’d been blindly following a god damn Skrull for over an hour. Just trusted him, from the moment of waking, because what reason had he not to? The Skrull had answered all his questions, he’d been exactly how Steve always was- God,  _how long had the real Steve been gone-_

“Let him go.”

Tony looked up, trying to speak, but the forearm pressing into his throat prevented anything but mindless choking. It was horrifying, it was- it was  _violating-_  Steve’s arms, his Steve, so fucking brutal and harsh, fuck, is this what it felt like to be Steve’s enemy? 

He jerked his head as far away from the Skrull wearing Steve’s face as he could, but was met with the muzzle of a gun pressing into the other side, and whimpered. It probably sounded pathetic, but the panic was fast beginning to set in, the situation was so far out of control he could barely even breathe from the shock of it all, God,  _Steve-_

“Baby, it’s gonna be fine, I’m gonna get you out,” the Real Steve on the other side of the room said, voice softening, just for him, exactly the same way the other Steve’s had when he’d told Tony to _trust me, only me, you understand, Tony?_

“You want to risk making a move?” the Skrull said tunefully, taking a step backward and dragging Tony along with him, ignoring the hiss of pain that was ripped from Tony’s mouth at the movement. “I have all your powers, Steve. What a wonderful surprise it was, to turn into a human who was as strong as you? Made everything so easy. Enhanced strength,  _tremendously_  fast reflexes- I can see bullets going past, isn’t that amazing? Is this how it feels to be the Great Captain America? I may well just stay like this forever. It also means, though, that if you fire at me, I’ll fire at him at exactly the same time. We’ll go down together, won’t we darling?”

He hated the names the Skrull was calling him. They sounded vile- Steve’s voice, but pushed out with such vitriol, like a curse. Tony jerked away again, feeling warm breath, lips ghosting over his temple as he talked. “Fuck yourself,” he swore violently.

The Skrull just laughed, stepping backward again, and Tony knew exactly what he was gunning for- the next door seal was only a few steps behind them, and once they’d crossed that line, the other Steve would be trapped behind five feet of solid steel. “Oh, brave words for a man with a gun pointed at his head.”

“They always did say I had a shit preservation instinct,” Tony gritted, and then put all his force into elbowing the Skrull in the kidneys. He and the real Steve had worked through it hundreds of times. In a situation like this, all Tony needed to give Steve was an inch of space, a tiny opening, and Steve could put a bullet there.

But it did nothing. He was too weak from injury and the Skrull was too strong from having Steve’s body, and he just rolled with the impact, never giving Tony a millimetre to work with. “Nice try, love, but if you hadn’t noticed, I’m in Captain America’s head. I saw him readying for that from a mile away.”

Tony watched Steve’s face go impossibly pale, mouth opening in horror as a hand came up to the back of his own ear. “The implant,” he breathed, “that’s what...Oh, God, no-”

“You’ve been giving me everything I needed,” the Skrull couldn’t help but gloat, swaying him and Tony back and forth, uncaring of the moans of pain it drew from Tony’s mouth when his leg was put under pressure, “no one suspected a thing. Not even your darling Tony.”

Another step, and Steve had noticed where they were heading too, because he took a step forward to follow, only to jerk to a terrified halt when the Skrull pushed the muzzle further into Tony’s head. “Ah ah ah, you know the deal, Captain. Fast movement will result in all that genius brain smeared across the wall.”

Tony clenched his eyes shut. He was going to black out. Fuck, he was going to black out, and then he’d be no use to anyone.

“You need him,” Steve bit out, aim never wavering, not even for a millisecond, “you wouldn’t.”

“We’d _like_  him,” The Skrull corrected and there was no way to deny the leer in his tone at that, making Tony shudder and jerk uselessly away again “but we can live with just killing him. Don’t go thinking Tony Stark is valuable to us, Captain- you may be disappointed.”

“Just...” Steve growled, and Tony watched his eyes flick helplessly between Tony and the Skrull that looked exactly like him, “just let him go. Take me back. I’ll go. Leave- leave him, please, he’s injured, you can’t-”

“Sorry Captain, but I don’t follow your orders,” Tony could feel the Skrull’s smile, stumbling backward as he was dragged that way like some sort of ragdoll, entirely at mercy, and he hated it, he hated it more than anything else in the world, because he couldn’t get Steve’s face out of his head- he was watching Steve do this to him and he couldn’t even discern it with someone else because he hadn’t got a fucking clue what that ‘something else’ even looked like. All he was seeing was Steve. “He’s got ideas that would hinder our efforts. We’d like them gone.”

“I don’ even... fuckin’ remember anythin’, genius,” Tony breathed hoarsely, trying to get the words to come through the constricted windpipe.

The arm around his neck tightened, and Tony choked at the same time Steve cried out his name desperately across the room. Tony guessed they’d be having a few sleepless nights after this shitshow.  
If there even _was_ an after.

“You will,” was all the Skrull said, whilst Tony scrabbled uselessly at the arm across his neck with hands that felt separate from the rest of his body, “but for now, I think it’s time we take our leave. Tony- the door, if you don’t mind?”

His arm released a little, and Tony breathed heavily, but wasn’t allowed to slump like he so desperately wanted to. Across the room, Steve was staring at him, and the look on his face was something that Tony couldn’t even describe- agony and fury and like his heart was being forcibly pulled from his chest, inch by devastating inch, all rolled into one. 

“I will find you,” Steve- _his_ Steve, the real one, spoke quietly across the room, “I will find you, no matter how long it takes me. And when Tony’s safe, I will come for you, and I will rip you to pieces.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” was all the Skrull replied with, rolling his eyes, “I actually have places to be, a planet to invade, all that- Tony, honey, if you wouldn’t mind shutting this door for me, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“If you wouldn't mind...shooting yourself, I'd greatly appreciate- greatly appreciate that too,” Tony forced out. There wasn’t a chance in hell-

Roughly, the Skrull snarled, moving Tony’s arm- the one that was still holding the gun against his own temple- and lifting it so it was pointed right over to Steve. Tony gasped and Steve’s eyes widened, but he didn’t let his own gun waver. Just looked to Tony with that same agonised expression on his face.

Tony did everything in his power to drop the gun, to shift it just a little, but the Skrull was impossibly strong, and his hand covered Tony’s, like his whole body was nothing more than a puppet. There were crashing noises from behind Steve, and the distinct sound of Thor yelling in the distance, and Tony felt the Skrull stiffen against him. Suddenly, the hand was tight, too tight, the finger on the trigger so horribly, awfully close to release. Tony screamed- he couldn’t do a fucking thing, he was going to kill Steve with his own hand and he couldn’t even move-

“Code, Tony, now,” the Skrull whispered, just as Steve snarled “do  _not,_  Tony, the Avengers are coming, we can stop him,  _do_   _not say that code-”_

“Three seconds and I’ll make you shoot him,” the Skrull responded softly, and his face was too near Tony’s- breath continuing to ghost over his cheek, a horribly intimate act that no longer made him feel safe, because  _this was not Steve this was not Steve this was not Steve_ \- the real Steve was standing in the line of fire of Tony’s gun, looking at him with something too close to helplessness as he shook his head wildly, begging Tony to hold off.

“This is T-Tony Stark,” he whispered, shutting his eyes and ignoring Steve’s hiss of “Tony, baby,  _stop-”_  “emergency release code 1-4-7-7-9-9-8-0. Let ‘em have it, boys.”

He heard the mechanisms in the wall as they registered the voice pattern and began to follow through with the orders. The Skrull’s grip loosened fractionally, and Tony felt his eyes roll to the back of his head. He couldn’t find the strength to keep them open. Couldn’t find the strength to even stand- he was being held up by too-tight arms and a too-familiar grip instead.

“You know, maybe we’ll keep him, after this,” he heard the Skrull musing from behind him, voice antagonistic and very unlike Steve in the inflections and sharp, biting manner in which he spoke the words. He felt the man’s face turn toward him, nose pressing into his cheek, and across the room Steve visibly snarled with rage. “He might be pathetic, but he’s still a damn good fuck, isn’t he?”

Tony hissed, flinching away again. He’d been through some pretty fucked up situations in his misguided youth, but this- this was a fucking joke. Steve- how long had he been gone? Had the Skrull been around when Tony had done repairs on the arc reactor? When he’d made dinner and nearly blown up the kitchen and they’d kissed with tomato sauce all over their faces? How the fuck had Tony not  _noticed,_  what the hell was wrong with him? How was Steve ever going to forgive him for being so blind? 

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” he heard the voice down the corridor, but it was fuzzy and too drowned out by the crashing in his ears and the growing tidal wave of pain that was rushing over him as the Skrull moved them backward, “I’m going to fucking _rip you apart,_ I swear to God, do not fucking _touch_  h-”

 

Then there was nothing.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next time he came round, he was lying on something cold.

 _Floor,_ his brain provided helpfully, although altogether far too slowly for his liking. That was probably the concussion. Fantastic.

He pulled his eyes open, focusing in on a hazily moving figure in front of him. For one happy, blessed moment, he thought it was Steve. He even started to smile a little on autopilot, because if Steve was there, it’d all be okay.

And then, of course, he remembered.

 

The recognition must have shown on him, however, because before Tony could even jerk away, a heavy hand pressed into his chest, holding him on the floor. “Don’t even bother,” he heard Steve- Steve who definitely wasn’t his Steve- say harshly.

Gulping in a sharp, panicked breath, Tony looked down and watched the Skrull’s hands, roughly pulling a bandage around his thigh. It was already starting to stain red, although Tony could barely even feel it. 

His mind raced. Okay- so obviously the Skrull had found one of the medkits along the wall and decided it was in both their best interests to keep Tony alive, at least for a little while longer. That was good. It also meant Tony hopefully wouldn’t be in agonising pain every step of the way, thanks to whatever drug had been forced into him. That was a bit of a bittersweet one, but again, at least he was still alive. And still, apparently, in the tunnel system. Another positive. Now it was just a question of trying to give himself extra time for Steve and the others to find him, before the Skrull took him to God knows where. Maybe there was a ship waiting outside one of the secret exits- maybe they’d made a base down here, who the fuck knew, the underground system was goddamn big enough. 

The important thing was not to panic. Make a plan. If possible, kill the son of a bitch wearing Steve’s face and get the fuck out of there. If not- take whatever blueprints that were buried in his memories and carry them with him to the grave.

Hah. Morbid.

 

“How long?” Tony said, finding the words heavy and slow on his tongue, “how long have you been....here.”

the Skrull paused, smiling slowly. Everything he did looked so wrong on Steve’s face. “You might not want to know that, darling. Now hold still and don’t make a scene- we’re on a tight schedule.”

Tony gritted his teeth, trying to jerk away from the hand pressing down on his chest, but it was useless. He felt fuzzy and stupid and slow, and he couldn’t match up to the strength pinning him to the floor.

This sucked.

“I’m never g’nna tell you,” Tony slurred, trying to sit up a little and look threatening, “b’lieve me, I’ve been through worse, you won’t ever-”

And suddenly there was a hand on his throat, fast and brutal and choking off the words before they could form. Steve’s face loomed over him, lip curled in threat, and Tony looked away. He knew it was’t- it wasn’t Steve. But he still couldn’t bear to see it.

“You have no _idea_  what I could do to you, right now,” he hissed, and then there were fingers pressing into his thigh through the bandage, and Tony’s entire body was consumed with rolling agony, a scream ripping out of his own throat, even the medication he was on not being enough to counter the harsh pressure the Skrull was inserting on his wound, “I could tear you apart without even hurting you. All I have to do is make you watch me.”

A hand in his hair, yanking him so he faced forward, and he thought about closing his eyes and refusing, but realised it would probably not go well for him if he did. So instead, he glared fiercely upward, hiding the fear under a layer of brave and hoping the Skrull couldn’t see past it.

Above him, Steve smiled. It showed his teeth. “I could film it. Send it to him. You’ll die and you’ll  _scream_ for him, beg me to stop and call me by his name, because that’s all you know me by, and I’ll make him watch every single second of it. Make him watch as I break you, wearing his face, saying your name like he always did. Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

Tony felt white spots begin to blossom in his vision, and his leg was on fire. He couldn’t think. All he could see was Steve-  _the Skrull_ , smiling down at him, one hand around his neck and a knee shoved between his legs, body pinning him in place.

 _“Is that what you want?”_  The Skrull asked again, and Tony couldn’t do anything but shake his head weakly, hoping he wouldn’t black out once more. He wanted to know what was happening to him- wanted to know where he was going. It was the only chance he had of getting out of this.

A moment passed, and then air flooded back into his crying lungs as the crushing pressure released against his windpipe. Coughing roughly, Tony finally shut his eyes and tried to calm his spinning mind. The hand in his hair let up carelessly, and he cursed through a burning throat as his head hit the floor.

Fuck him. Tony was going to escape and shoot him in the knees. Then the head, obviously. Dick.

He watched from the floor as the Skrull stood up and wiped the blood from Tony’s leg on his pants, then picked up the gun from the floor. “Anyway,” he said casually, like he hadn’t nearly killed Tony with his bare hands, “like I said- we have to get moving. I was supposed to have brought you in hours ago.”

“Where exactly are you planning on taking me?” Tony asked through gritted teeth, shuffling back until his shoulder hit the wall. He really, really wished he could get his suit right about now, “if you hadn’t fucking noticed, the Avengers are coming for me. And I know I have a generally low opinion on myself, but if there’s one thing I know better than anything else in the universe, it’s that Steve is going to find me. And he’s really, _really_ not going to be happy with you when he gets here.”

The Skrull turned and crouched down on his haunches, far too close for Tony’s liking. “I am Steve,” he whispered, “for all intents and purposes. I know everything he knows. I know how to disable your suit. I know the face you make in the morning when you wake. All I need to do is look inside his head, darling-”

Tony headbutted him before he could finish. Sharp and jerky and a truly stupid decision it may have been, but the Skrull cut off with a cry and fell backward, holding his nose, so Tony counted it as something of a win.“Don’t call me that,” Tony growled, trying to ignore the way his own head was throbbing, “I don’t give a fuck what you say. You’re nowhere close to Steve- and only he gets to call me by that name”

There wasn’t a reply; only the sounds of the Skrull’s laboured breathing as he rolled back onto his feet and held his head in his hands. Tony eyed up the gun that had tumbled to the floor a few feet away- thinking of speed and distance and the probability of reaching it before the Skrull saw him and crushed his hand or something- but just as he launched himself forward, the Skrull lifted his head and caught him by the collar of his shirt, throwing him back into the wall.

“You’re gonna pay for that later,” he warned. The smile on his face was bloody this time. “Unfortunately, I can’t stick around long to discipline you. No doubt your lovely little team are currently running around these corridors like headless chickens in a desperate attempt to find you, and strong as Rogers’ body is, I’d rather not have to deal with them right now. We’ll be out soon, if you come along quietly.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I knock you and and carry you the rest of the way,” the Skrull shrugged, “either option’s fine by me.”

Tony glared at him, back pressed tightly against the wall. God, this was fucked up. He still didn’t have any memories of getting here or fighting them, and right now they would have been pretty fucking useful. He wanted to sit here and try and waste some more time until Steve could find him- but he knew that would only result in another head trauma, and he’d really rather keep his mind in one piece. It was the only thing he could trust down here. Wherever they were heading- most probably a base of operations, from what the Skrull was implying- was probably not going to be very fun for Tony, which meant he just had to try and find a way to get out before then. Before it was too late.

Never say Tony Stark didn’t work well under pressure.

He nodded at the Skrull through a tight jaw, and then held back another cry of pain as he was pulled roughly to his feet and pushed against The Skrull’s side, holding him up by the waist.  _Too close,_  Tony thought in revulsion, hating how despite the rough hands and careless hold he was under, it still felt like Steve. He still fitted perfectly into the man’s side.

They walked in silence; Tony deep in thought, trying to analyse and remember the map, the route they were headed down. He knew now that they weren’t going to end up in the exit near the public library- this was taking them further down, further out from the Tower. Tony had built one tunnel that took them to an abandoned mill, about an hour’s walk out- that was probably the one they were gunning for right about now. Inconspicuous, far away- big enough for, say, a small ship or camp to be hidden.

Fuck. He really, really needed to get out.

 _Think, goddammit,_ he cursed at himself,  _you’re a goddamn genius, surely you can think of something, What the fuck is the point of you if you can’t?_

There was the sound of dull yells somewhere down the corridor, and Tony’s heart lifted a little. His team. He could- his team were going to come for him. Natasha and Clint and Thor and Bruce and _Steve,_  God, Steve was going to be there for him, he just had to hold on, he could rely on them, he could, he-

“This is too slow,” the skrull growled, jerking them to a halt, “you’re too fucking slow.”

And suddenly the gun was swinging around, smashing him on the head violently. Tony- far too hurt to do anything else at that point- just stumbled to the floor, eyes rolling immediately. It was only with a very vague sense of awareness that he realised he hadn’t hit the floor, and was instead being swung up on the Skrull’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry. 

He wanted to sleep. God, he wanted to just let the darkness sweep over him. Everything hurt. His leg was burning. His head throbbed in multiple different places. Fuck, he didn’t even know if he was going to live long enough  to see what nightmare he was heading for at all.

 

He wanted to sleep. But he also wanted to kill the bastard that had done this to him. And he wanted that more.

 

He held on. Clung to consciousness like a drowning man clung to the only floating object in a churning sea. Every step the Skrull took sent a new wave of pain rushing over him, but he wasn’t going to give up. 

 _You’re in a perfect position right now_ , said Natasha’s voice in his head, circling him in the boxing ring with her fists raised and an eyebrow quirked in challenge,  _he thinks you’re out. He’s focusing on something else. And you’re elevated. Few more manoeuvres and you can snap his neck between your legs, just like I taught you._

 _My leg doesn’t work,_ Natasha, he muttered, _I’m barely even conscious. Fuck- barely even alive,_  he followed her movement around the ring, watching as she laughed softly and threw the hair out of her face.

 _And when has that ever stopped you before?_ She asked him. B _uilt in a cave with a box of scraps, right? You can do this. Come on._

And then she was gone, and it was just Tony, gritting his teeth and watching the ground as it sped past him.

Alright. Okay. So this was probably going to hurt.

Another yell, closer this time, and then the sound of gunfire. Fuck, were there more skrulls in the passages now? That really wasn’t good. He could feel the Skrull lifting his gun up ahead, only one hand curled across the back of his knees to hold him in place.  
This was his opening. Now or never.

Deep breath. In and out. Then-

He spun, fast and hard and keeping his centre of balance firmly resting in his stomach as his legs rose to the side and curled up around the Skrull’s neck. It was pain like he couldn’t possibly imagine; whatever measly healing that had begun along the cut being ripped apart as the skin stretched to accommodate his movement. He kept going, though- kept going because he had momentum, because he _had to_.

The Skrull yelled in surprise, stumbling backward as Tony wound his shins around his neck and jerked, just like Natasha had shown him. Maybe he got the angle wrong, maybe he just wasn’t strong enough- but the only thing it did was send the Skrull stumbling into the wall, thrown off balance by the yanking on his neck.

Fuck. Okay. Time to improvise, then.

He was still sideways on, and he watched as the gun in the Skrull’s hand was lifted, coming up to meet Tony. With a hiss, he spun around, out of reach of any stray bullets, and ended up balancing precariously on the Skrull’s shoulders like a child. 

He was vaguely aware of another body rushing into the scene on the other side of the corridor and shouting his name, telling him to“get out of the way so I can shoot the bastard, Tony!” but by that point he was too far gone. He was in so much pain- the only thing he could think about was _take the fucker out take the fucker out take him out with whatever piece of strength you have left-_

Slamming the jut of his elbow down on the Skrull’s head over and over, Tony snarled in vicious satisfaction when the Skrull underneath him cried out in pain. He was strong- but he was lying about being up to Steve’s level, because Steve’s training would have kicked in and thrown him off by now, whereas the Skrull was still trying to grapple aimlessly with him. Amateur.

“TONY!” Someone’s- _Clint’s_ \- voice pierced through the rage filled haze, and Tony’s gaze flickered upward for a second, watching a small figure twenty-something yards away as it pointed a gun toward him, “GET OUT OF THE WAY!”

The Skrull paused for a second, registering the noise at the same time Tony did, and then he was cursing savagely, bending over double, forcing Tony back into his arms.

Or at least, he would’ve done, if Tony hadn’t snagged hold of one of the pipes running along the ceiling and clung to it, leaving him dangling in the air as the Skrull ducked down away from the bullet that planted itself in one of his flailing hands. He howled, dropping the gun as crimson blood dripped from the hole in the back of his palm. Tony watched as if in slow motion; seeing the Skrull glance once up to Clint, then further up to Tony, then snarl in fury. 

And then he was throwing himself to the side, into the darkness of a thin corridor a few feet away.

 

Gone. Defeated. Beaten.

 

With absent-minded surprise, he realised he was still hanging 8 feet in the air, watching the space the Skrull had just vacated numbly. Clint was saying something loudly to him, sprinting over, checking the corridor that now lay empty and abandoned in the compressing darkness, but Tony couldn’t hear it.

It was over. He’d won.

Now he could sleep.

 

“Tony, Tony TONY KEEP HOLD OF TH-”

For what felt like the hundredth time that day, Tony’s eyes rolled.

 

* * *

 

 

Coming back around again this time was not even half as painless as it had been the first two times.

 

It was instant hurt; like as soon as his eyes flickered open there was someone there, stabbing knives into him with brutal speed, and he could feel the whimper of exhaustion and pain slip through his lips before he could even help it.

 

But he wasn’t unprepared any more. He knew that what he was waking up to would undoubtedly be bad. It had been the first two times.

 

Jerking forward, he threw his fist into the vague figure his eyes made out, feeling the satisfactory smack of knuckles on nose. There was a groan of surprise and a curse that flew threw the air, but it was drowned out by Tony’s own snarl of threat as he rolled off his back and put his knee out to climb to his-

Oh, fuck. Leg. Bad leg bad leg bad leg bad leg-

Clattering to the floor messily, Tony moaned, spots blossoming in his vision for the nth fucking time.  
God, so much for his valiant fight to the death. He couldn’t even walk.

“Tony, Tony, just calm down-” someone grabbed for his wrist and he bared his teeth, seeing Clint’s face but not trusting it even a little, because experience had warned him of the truth behind those faces of the ones he trusted.

 

He tried to headbutt them in the same way he had for the other one, but this time he was too far away to reach, and his head throbbed almost unbearably at the motion, so Tony fell back with a pathetic whimper instead, because he was stupid and  _weak_ and this fucking  _thing_  was going to do whatever it wanted with him, kill him, hurt him, pretend to love him so he could fuck him like the other one had, Tony couldn’t stop him, he wasn’t strong enough to stop him-

 

“TONY!” Clint cried, and Tony just curled in on himself, hands moving to cover his head as he clenched his eyes shut and just wished someone would come and fucking end it, he couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t stand watching his friends hurt him-

 

Something was shoved into his hand- something hard, with rounded off corners. Tony, even in his slightly delirious state, knew a gun when he felt one. He’d been playing with them since he was 2, after all. “Tony- I’m on your side, I won’t- I won’t do anything to you, look, you’re in control, see, I won’t do anything.”

The hands on his wrists moved away slowly, and Tony watched through the gaps in his fingers as Clint drew back, hands raised in surrender. He was on his knees beside Tony, but he shuffled back a little to give him space. It looked like he’d been in the process of bandaging his leg. Again.

Tony breathed audibly through his nose, watching Clint intently for a few seconds. Clint just looked back, waiting for Tony to make the next move.

He did. It involved lifting the gun and pointing it between the other man’s eyes.

“Give me one fucking reason,” Tony hissed, gripping one hand over the other shaking one and trying to steady them both a little.

“What, to kill me, or to keep me alive?” Clint asked, but then shook his head as he heard Tony swear violently, “no, no sorry, okay- uh- I know your favourite cereal is Lucky charms and you play video games with me whenever you can see I’ve had nightmares because you know it- it takes my mind off stuff? Is that good enough?”

“Steve knew all that shit,” Tony shook his head and tightened his grip, “he was also the one who stabbed me in the leg and then lied to me so that I’d follow him blindly. Try a little harder.”

Clint looked slightly helpless as he flailed his arms. “I don’t- Jesus, Tony, I gave you a gun in the middle of a panic attack, if that’s not my own special brand of idiocy, I really don’t know what is.”

 

Tony paused. That was true. A Skrull probably wouldn’t have given Tony the means to kill them. Plus, Clint had seen the back of his ears as he’d been turning, and they were implant-free. Clint must have known that information off his own back.

 

“Fair,” Tony said in the end, dropping the gun a fraction, “I’m still not going to trust you until I watch you kill one of those fucking Skrulls though.”

Clint shrugged. “Sounds reasonable. By the way- what’s your favourite nickname for me?”

Tony watched the tiny tensing of his shoulders; the little shift in stance, and realised that Clint was just as wary of Tony as Tony was of him. No one knew who was who down here, it seemed.

“Tricky one,” Tony pondered, “obviously, birdbrain and Hawkass are quality ones- although I gotta say, Legolas is always gonna be a personal favourite of mine.”

Just like that, Clint relaxed. “Good to see you again, Tony,” he said through a smile that was tainted with bloodstained teeth, “it’s been a long day.”

“I’ll bet,” Tony whispered, letting his head fall back onto the floor as he just concentrated on breathing. They were still in the fucking tunnels- Tony really hoped he never had to come down here again, he was sick of them already. “How do I look?” He asked.

“Like you’ve been stabbed, drugged and knocked out four times.”

Tony nodded. “Great.”

“Can I- can I finish up what I was doing with that,” Clint gestured to the half-completed bandage on Tony’s leg, “I’ve cleaned it and given you an adrenaline shot- that was what woke you so suddenly, by the way, sorry about that- but I’d rather you didn’t bleed out on me, y’know?”

Tony huffed, nodding his head. Immediately, Clint shuffled forward again, a frown on his face as delicate fingers worked around his leg. “Your leg was fine last time we all saw you. Bastard must have stabbed you before knocking you out with whatever it was that wiped your memory- probably thought it would reinforce the whole ‘trust’ element of things.”

He knew Clint was just talking to hide his own nerves, but Tony still shuddered at the thought of it. He could still feel the ghosting sensation of the Skrull’s hands around his throat, the face looming over him and carved with a smug sort of hatred that Tony could never before have imagined on Steve’s face. “How long has he been- how long ago was Steve taken?” Tony asked quietly, begging that the answer wasn’t a month, six months, a y-

“Four days,” Clint said, not looking up, and Tony felt like sighing in complete and utter relief, but it was tainted almost immediately by the overwhelming shame at not even fucking realising his boyfriend was an impostor for four whole fucking days-

“Not your fault, Tony,” Clint said quickly, shaking his head, “he fooled all of us. He had a direct link to all of Steve’s memories, there was no way of knowing. The only reason you ended up seeing the implant thing on head was because Thor set fire to the kitchen and the Skrull caught caught up in it. It burnt off like, half of his hair- and whatever film he’d had over it.”

There was a brief silence, and then “Steve’s going out of his mind.You should’ve seen him, Tony- we met back at the rendezvous after 20 minutes like we said we would, and he told us all what he’d seen before you’d locked him out. He- he was shaking like crazy- looked ready to burst straight through the walls with his bare hands and beat the living shit out of anyone who got in his way.” Clint laughed, sounding tired, “unfortunately, we already used up all the explosives when Steve burst through the walls for the first time. You designed these tunnels like a fucking fortress, Tony, I’ll give you that. We had to split up and search manually, God, like _animals.”_

Tony laughed at that. “You only realise how useful tech is when you’re trapped in a maze that dampens all signal, don’t you?” He said quietly.

They were silent after that, until Clint had finished tying off the bandage and then offered Tony two pills. “For the pain,” he said with a shrug, “sorry- but we’re gonna be doing a bit more walking. We gotta get you back to the others and then get the hell outta here.”

Tony eyed them warily. “I’m good,” he said in the end. He knew that Clint kept med supplies in the pockets of his suit, but to be honest, he’d prefer to be 100% certain who exactly was offering him drugs before accepting. He’d learned that lesson in college. 

“Tony-”

 _“I’m good,”_  he bit out, sharper this time, “I can take the fucking pain, alright, just- I’ll be fine.”

He wanted to sleep. Wanted to curl up on the couch with Steve and hear him breathe, remember that Steve would rip out his own heart ten times over before ever doing the things that the Skrull had done to him. He just wanted it all to stop, just for a fucking second.

But it couldn’t. It couldn’t and it wouldn’t, not until they fought their way out, tooth and nail. Because they always had to. Nothing was ever just easy.

 

So he took a deep breath and sat up, and bit down on his lip when the almost familiar rush of pain came up to join him.

 

This was fine. He could do it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“So tell me what happened,” Tony asked Clint as they wandered through the corridors, both of their guns held steady by their sides in preparation for whatever met them.

 

Clint paused, wiping the sweat and blood from his brow. “We knew they were coming. Had done for weeks, thanks to a message from Quill and the Guardians. It was what gave us the advantage when they finally landed, earlier this morning. We’d got all the teams together- fantastic four, Strange, the Defenders- the lot of them. ‘Bout a week ago, you started developing this- this machine thing, that could identify if a body was Skrull or not. I’m guessing word must have got out, so they sent in the Skrull to replace Steve and see if they could get anything outta you.”

Tony nodded. “Is Steve- did they-”

“Bit roughed up, some B-class torture; nothing he couldn’t handle,” Clint said, looking grim, “they put the implant in his head though. No one knew what it did, and we haven’t had time to get it removed surgically yet. He came back to Earth at the same time the Skrulls landed. We haven’t had much time to debrief, to be honest- just a welcome back, here’s a gun, shoot anyone who doesn’t immediately start reciting Pi when they catch your eye.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow at that. “Pi? How imaginative.”

“It was the only thing Bruce could come up with before raging out and smashing every green alien man he saw,” Clint shrugged, “the others are probably still fighting above ground. We were too in the beginning- but when Steve came back and told us what was really going down, we knew we had to find you. So of course, we go look for the resident genius. We find you in the penthouse with the person you think is the real Steve, acting really fucking surprised when he initiates a complete system lockdown on all your tech using the emergency codes he gave you.”

“Oh,” Tony winced. “I feel like I didn’t react too well to that.”

“Well, let’s just say you caught on pretty fast. Wanna know where all the Skrull’s injuries came from when you first woke up with him?” Clint laughed, pointing over to him, “you fucking beat his ass, Tony- we were watching from the other side of the room as we tried to fight our way over, it would’ve made me laugh in like, any other circumstance. You threw a frying pan at his face.”

Okay, that sounded more like him. “I should hope so,” he nodded in satisfaction.

Clint’s face soured a little as he continued. “We almost got to you. Thor, like I said before, had set him on fire a bit, I was firing the best shots I could with three broken fingers, and Natasha was busy trying to keep the floor clear of any more enemies. You- he’d got you in a pretty tight chokehold by that point, but you were doing your best...until he managed to reach around and grab something from his pocket and knock you out flat with it, that is.”

“Must have overestimated the dosage then,” Tony muttered glumly, palming his eyes with a dirty hand, “I can’t remember a fucking thing. I’m guessing he was probably only hoping for a few hours lost, not a week.”

“Yeah,” Clint nodded, “you scared the shit out of us though- everything was so smoky and hard to see by that point, all we saw was you... we thought he’d killed you. Steve- Steve lost it, man. Threw a kitchen knife full-width of the room at him, it was only because he had Steve’s reflexes that he managed to dodge it.” His face darkened further as he said “son of a bitch just yanked the knife off the wall and ran it straight through you. Said if we didn’t let you both leave he’d cut through your artery and- yeah. It was grim. We didn’t really have time to think; his backup came in a few seconds later and blew the place up, and by the time we’d yanked Steve outta the rubble you were nowhere in sight.”

“How’d you know I was gonna be down here then?” Tony asked, trying to keep the conversation going so that he had something to distract him from...well, everything, really, “can’t have been easy hunting for me in these tunnels.”

“You’re goddamn right it wasn’t,” Clint shot him an unimpressed look, “remind me to come down here if ever there’s a zombie apocalypse, by the way- but it was Natasha who realised that’s where you were probably headed in the end. When the Skrull cut off everything, I mean like, everything. JARVIS included. We couldn’t search for you via him- but she commed in with some of the guys patrolling the perimeter of the tower and they told us they’d not seen anyone go in or out in a while. The only other option was down here or still hidden in the tower, but the blood trail led us right to the doors in the basement, so-” Clint broke off, looking guilty as he said “still took us half a fucking hour to break through the coding you’d put on the doors. We had to try and persuade the Hulk that his Tinman needed Puny Banner for some Nerdy Shit, which took a good portion of time.”

“Did he crack it?” Tony asked curiously, because pissed as he would be, he could accept being hacked by Bruce.

But Clint shook his head. When Tony raised an eyebrow in question, Clint smirked again, even though it was tainted with anxiety from the memory. “Steve got impatient.”

Tony still looked confused, and Clint huffed. “He hit it really hard and the mechanism short-circuited.”

Huh. Okay. Useful in this situation, but definitely something he’d have to work on later. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Clint shook his head, leading them around a bend slowly, “Cap’s not fucking around right now. I’m pretty sure he’s been in some sort of rage-induced trance since he first saw you with the Skrull that was wearing his face.”

“Mmm,” Tony hummed absently, pressing a hand to his temple and letting Clint take his weight for a little bit. God, he was in the middle of the worst migraine of his life right now. How he’d not thrown up or just straight up fucking died yet, he had no idea. Experience, probably. And a long history of compartmentalising pain. “Thank you for savin’ my ass, by the way. ‘Preciate th’effort.”

Clint smiled, and the arm around Tony’s waist squeezed a little. “Don’t worry about it. Looked like you were halfway to having him all on your own, there. Watching Tony Stark pull a Black Widow and strangle a man with his legs isn’t something you see every day.”

Tony laughed weakly, shutting his eyes and letting his head loll forward a little. Clint nudged him quickly with an “eyes front, Stark, just keep going a little while longer, come on-” and Tony groaned inwardly, but forced his head up all the same.

Fine. It was fine. He was leaving a trail of blood across the floor and he wasn’t sure whether or not he’d ever be able to walk or even think properly again, but yeah. Fine. “Wanna go home,” he mumbled quietly. Home was where Real Steve was. Home was hands that weren’t covered in his own blood and a concussion that meant he couldn’t get past the fifth decimal place of Pi without feeling as if his brain was splitting open. Home was a place he could rest. 

 

They turned the corner, and Tony felt Clint slow down a little as they took in their surroundings. It was all the same as every other stupid corridor was, and Tony made to take another step forward- but Clint held firm, and Tony jerked backward from the resistance.

Clint’s brow furrowed a little. “I think I can hear someth-”

 

And that was it. That was all the warning Tony got before suddenly, something blue and bright expanded from the ceiling a few feet away from them and blew a hole through the roof.

 

Tony yelled and stumbled backward, feeling the heavy weight of Clint reacting to it, pushing their bodies together and covering Tony’s with his own as they were forced across the room.  
By that point, the only thought going through Tony’s head was ‘oh God, not again’.

He was sick of being knocked into things. He was sick of these fucking tunnels. He was going to flood them when he got out.

 

They landed roughly, Tony’s back smacking into the floor- but his head landed on something soft, and he realised that Clint had put his hands underneath, just before landing. He could thank him for that later. For the time being, he just focused on shielding his eyes from the dust and rubble flying everywhere, hands pushing at Clint’s limp body on top of h-

Wait. Limp? That was... probably not good.

“Clint?” He coughed, cracking his eyes open a little and raising a shaking hand of his own against the smattering of hot rocks that were falling on both of them, “Clint, fuck, get off me, are you- oh, Christ.” 

He heard rather than saw the snarls and clattering that warned of another presence in the room, and jerked his head up just as he watched a body fall through the gap in the roof, another one leaping down to join them.

Tony would know that body any day. Sizes and measurements and proportions coming instantly to the front of his mind- that was Steve.

They were both Steve.

He jerked back, feeling Clint’s obviously unconscious body pin him down with dead weight as he did so. He couldn’t stop to check him over; just had to pray that whatever had hit him wasn’t a fatal blow as he rolled the body off his chest and placed him down on the floor as gingerly as he could in the panic.

 

He had to stop this. Once and for all. Had to kill the bastard wearing his lover’s face before it did any more harm.

 

Grasping for the gun he’d dropped in the commotion, he pulled it into his chest and then rolled onto his back, sitting up. He considered standing, but from the signals his leg was sending him, he figured that would really not go down well.

As he took them both in, he realised that it looked like they hadn’t even noticed him at all. In fact, they were so busy brawling amongst themselves, they hadn’t even stopped to turn in his direction.

It was like a blur. He’d seen Steve fight before, yeah- but fight himself? Fight someone with the same raw power, ability, that Steve carried? It was like watching something in fast-forward. Hands, legs, bodies moving faster than Tony could even keep up with. Punches that flew insanely fast, being dodged even faster. Tony had never seen something so brutal in his whole life, and he’d watched missiles desecrate mountain ranges.

The one that looked as if he had been kicked through the gap in the ceiling had got back to his feet almost immediately after, rolling on his back and pulling out a blade from the back of his pretty ruined jeans as he went up. But the Steve that followed was utterly merciless in his attack, face carved with all-consuming and almost feral rage as he threw himself feet-first at his counterpart and slammed him into a wall. The once with the knife hit concrete, and his back left an indent in the material, but he was  racing back immediately, blade flashing, cutting through skin in the other’s arm as he failed to dodge the feint-

 

“STOP!” Tony screamed, loudly as his tortured throat would allow, swinging the gun around and pointing it at both of them. When it seemed neither of them were in the right headspace to listen to outside voices at that point, he fired a warning shot way over their heads. That one did the trick.

Both of them jerked to a halt, turning to look at him in shock. As soon as their eyes landed on him, half-lying on the floor and probably looking as if he’d just been dragged backward through a minefield, they gasped in distress.

“Tony,” the one on the left whispered, horrified, whilst the one holding the knife choked and said “fuck, sweetheart,” in a soft voice that Tony could barely even hear.

As soon as the words came from their mouths, their counterparts whipped their heads over and growled at one another, getting ready to launch back into their wild battle- but Tony shot off another warning bullet before either of them could make a move, shaking his head.

“Steve- whichever one of you is Steve- don’t move, please. I don’t want to shoot you. I’d really  _really_ rather not shoot you.”

At once, both of them stood stock still. Tony was fast beginning to realise that this- that trying to sort out through his own mess of a mind whilst also working out which one was the love of his life and which was the murdering alien- was not going to be a fun ride.

He sat there, pointing the gun between them both, and didn’t speak a word. Didn’t even know what to say. He just looked at both men hopelessly, seeing if there was something,  _anything_  that might give it away.

The one on the right- without the knife- certainly seemed more worse for wear. The cut on his arm was starting to bleed heavily, and mixed in with all the other wounds on his body, he looked like he was fast running out of blood altogether. However, he’d definitely looked as if he was coming out on top in the snippet of the fight Tony had witnessed; playing the offensive whilst his clone worked on trying to parry all his blows and stay out of the way of the deadly downpour.

“Tony,” one of them said, barely above a whisper, “we have been through hell and high water together. I’ve died for you- you’ve done the same for me, multiple times over. I am begging you- trust me. Even if it means you never do it again; even if you shoot me as soon as I take a step toward you- just don’t let him lie to you. I’d rather you just kill us both than let that  _thing_ come near you.”

Tony stared at him. That was the most Steve-thing he’d ever fucking heard.

“He might be a liar about everything else, but he’s right about that much,” the other Steve half-snarled, before turning back to Tony and wiping the anger off his face, leaving behind something softer, “it’s okay, Tony. I know this is... impossible. I can’t think of a way to try and fix this, or prove to you that I’m really me, “ he looked broken as he swallowed and added “believe me, sweetheart, I’ve tried. But he’s in my head. I can’t- I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.”

Ah. And there was that Trademark Steve Rogers Self-blame. Very convincing. 10/10.

Ha. Tony wanted to laugh. This was ridiculous. This was insane. How was he supposed to decide? What the fuck was he supposed to do? He couldn’t walk, was in no state to negotiate, and had about a minute until he just blacked out completely, and then who knew would win the fight that re-ignited in his unconsciousness, it could be the real Steve, it could be the Skrull-

Fast running out of options, Tony felt a distressed breath hiss through his teeth. Okay, okay- he needed to think. He needed to use his head. 

They had some sort of neural transmitter that projected the thoughts of the real Steve into the Skrull’s mind. There would be a lag. A gap between the processing of the memory and then the vocalising of it. But what if it was just Steve needing a moment to remember? He couldn’t ride out his hopes on the fact that their tech wasn’t responsive enough. He had no idea how it worked. 

Okay. No speed-questioning, then. And he couldn’t tell them apart from image. And he could feel dizziness slowly start to creep in on him again.   
Right. Okay.

Something deeper. He had to go deeper. Not just a normal memory- a muscle memory. An instinctive action that only his Steve knew. Tony was already aware that the Skrull didn’t have the fight training that the real Steve did- that meant that he wasn’t in sync with his own body in the same way that Steve was.

Okay, okay- coming to a solution. Getting somewhere. That was good. That was progress. Trigger a muscle memory that only his Steve would react to, then. But how? What could he  **do?**

 

_Come on, come on, think. You’re in a corridor with three other people, one of whom is unconscious. You have a gun. One Steve has a knife. There is a hole in the roof. You are very, very Not Prepared for this. What would Steve try and do, above everything else? Something so reflexive that he wouldn’t even think. he’d just do it- before the Skrull could even think to react. What the fuck could trigger a response like that?_

 

Tony stared at both of them. They both stared back. He took a breath-

 

twisted the gun and pressed the muzzle against his forehead.

 

 

On the left, he watched as Steve’s eyes widened in horror, unable to stop himself jerking forward and sticking out a hand, a horrified “TONY  _NO-”_  being ripped from his mouth before he could even think about it.

The one holding the knife just looked surprised.

 

Tony turned to him, and with brutal efficiency, his hand moved, the gun shifted, and the bullets landed in chest, throat and head.

The body dropped like a stone. The knife made a noise as it clattered to the floor.

 

 

 

There was a brutal, deafening silence. 

 

 

 

 

 

Tony could hear his own breathing.

That had been... fast. He hadn’t even stopped to think. He could see the replay in his head, in terrifying, agonising HD quality- Steve’s body, crumbling like a stone, the bullet in his throat leaking blood immediately, all from _his_  hand, Tony’s own hands had done that, oh God, from his- he’d shot him, he’d killed him-

Steve made a sharp noise, turning to look at Tony, but Tony pointed the gun over to him as he snarled, hands shaking wildly, teeth biting down so hard on his lip that they drew blood. He could feel the tears slipping down his cheeks as he whispered “Steve Rogers, I swear to God, that better be you, that better be- I swear, it has to be, it has to....please, God-”

“Tony, Tony darling, just...” Steve put up his hands slowly, pointing them to the floor, “just watch. It’s gonna- they turn back, when they die, just watch.”

Tony almost looked over to it. Almost. But he let his eyes roll over it a second before they could focus, unable to see- he couldn’t see what he’d done. He couldn’t look, God, what if he’d just killed Steve? What if he’d made a mistake? He’d gone down so quickly, Tony hadn’t even thought twice, he’d just  _shot_ him, he could see the blood pooling around his head in the corner of his eye, fuck, fuck  _fuck fuck fuck-_

“Tony.” He jerked wildly to the sound of the soft voice, turning back to the last Steve standing. He was on his knees, hands in the air, but was gesturing over to the corpse on the floor with his head. “Tony, look. It’s gone. That’s not... it’s not me anymore, just look.”

“No,” Tony shook his head wildly, uncaring of the pain, uncaring of anything, he’d just watched the light drain out of Steve’s eyes in less than a second and it was because of _him_ - “no, no, I can’t, I can’t,”  _I can’t look at that, I can’t look at Steve Rogers’ dead body and know I put that there._

“It doesn’t look like me any more Tony, I promise. I swear, it’s all... green and- and pointy eared and stuff.” Steve shook his head slowly, like he was talking to a frightened animal, which Tony guessed he probably looked like right now, “you did it, you got it right, the Skrull is dead. Just look, Tony.”

Tony felt his breathing, fast and rapid in his throat, making his head spin. He needed to calm down. He needed to- he needed to see. He had to know. If he’d got it right, or if he’d just murdered-

he turned his eyes onto the body. 

 

Yeah. Yeah, okay- that was the Skrull. That was... Steve definitely wasn’t green. With black hair. And massive pointy ears.

 

Thank God. 

 

He wheezed, turning back to the- to  _Steve,_  to the real Steve, finally, without a shadow of a doubt- and just let himself let go.   
Steve was there. Steve was gonna look out for him. He could... he could have a rest now. He was so so tired.

He heard the air rushing through his ears as he tumbled backward, but didn’t hit the ground like he thought he would. His descent slowed at the last minute, and when he blinked up, Steve’s face looked down at him.

Steve.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me now,” he said hurriedly, hands curling around the back of Tony’s shoulders, holding him in place. Tony couldn’t help curl into them a little- God he’d missed the way the real Steve held him. “Tony- Tony come on darling, just a little bit longer, I gotta find a way to get you and Clint outta here and you know these tunnels better than anyone, come on, you can do it-”

“Reflex action,” Tony mumbled, smiling a little into Steve’s shoulder as he pushed himself in closer, “your reflex action is... is protectin’ me. ‘S’nice.”

Steve said something else, his hands ghosting so lightly over Tony’s skin, his face, his jaw- but Tony just looked up at him and smiled.

 

Then he was out.

 

* * *

 

 

The world came back into focus slowly. Muddily.

 

There were voices. Familiar voices. And he was lying on something soft- hell of a lot softer than the floor, anyway. That was nice. Made a welcome change.

He rolled his head sideways and felt a small murmur escape from his lips as he did so. At once, the talking stopped. Then suddenly there was a feather-light press against the back of his palm, and a gentle voice that said “Tony? You back with us?”

That was... Bruce? Yeah- definitely Bruce. Tony sighed in relief. Bruce and bed and familiar voices. That was safe, right? Bruce was s-

_Trap trap what if it’s a trap, fuck, God, now I’m right where they want me and they’re all pretending and I’m not safe, they’re gonna make me build-_

“Tony?"

"-fuck, Tony, it's okay-"

_lying they're lying, false sense of security, even their voices were identical to the original, there was no way for him to know, none at all-_

"Tony, calm down, you’re good, you’re good! We’re friendlies- oh, fuck, Natasha, Nat, hold him I gotta sedate him before he hurts himself-”

 

he struggled and tried to lash out, but every bone was heavy and tired and Natasha was holding him and he opened his eyes, just for a second, just in time to see his friend's face looking at him with a twisted expression in her eyes and then-

 

* * *

 

 

 

Next time, there were no voices.

 

Just the familiar rhythmic beeping of his own heart on the monitor. Slow, but there. For now. He’d lived another day. That was nice.

He felt stronger this time around. His eyes opened quicker, easier. Maybe he was being brought off the drugs. He wondered how much time had passed since he’d shot St- the Skrull. Since he’d shot the Skrull. Wondered a lot of things in that moment, actually.

There was something in his hand.

Moving his head a little on the hospital bed, he tried to focus on the Starktab resting on his upturned palm, looking as simple and inconspicuous as always. Hm- that was interesting. What was the point in that?

“JARVIS?” He murmured, noting with surprise that his voice came out as nothing more than a feeble croak. Must have done something to it along the journey. Probably when he’d had the living daylights out of him by stupid Skrull.

“Hello, sir,” came a smooth voice from the tablet, and Tony breathed an impressively loud sigh of relief, “it is lovely to hear you are well again. I have been monitoring life-signs since my arrival, but audio confirmation of your well being is certainly comforting.”

Tony smiled. “Hey, buddy. You back up and functioning then?”

“To the utmost of my abilities, sir. As soon as Captain Rogers came back to the tower, he reversed all lockdowns and brought everything back online. If you will look left, you will see your suit standing by your side.”

Tony raised his eyebrows and shuffled a little, turning to look at the suit stood on sentry mode by his side. That was...oddly comforting. “Any reason as to why I have my suit standing guard by my bedside?” He asked.

There was a small pause, and then “The Avengers predicted you may have a negative response to any human interaction, considering your lack of trust for them as of late. Doctor Banner suggested you be allowed to interact with your technology in order to regain confidence in the authenticity of your surroundings. You are safe and well, sir,” his AI said, speaking softer, “believe me- after rigorous 45 minute tests, I can confirm that they are who they say they are. If you still doubt, feel free to ask me anything you desire.”

Tony looked down at the tablet, swiping a thumb over the surface and feeling a tremendous surge of affection for the disembodied voice. There was something unspeakably comforting about knowing that, whatever happened, JARVIS was always going to be unquestionably loyal to him.

“Run through your base code, J,” Tony said quietly, shutting his eyes. He could remember each number of it from memory; a burned image of him slumped over his father’s desk, 8th coffee of the night in hand, filling out line after line of data into his computer and beginning the recreation of what had been his favourite family member. He would know if there was even a single flaw. Know if it was a fake.

Swiftly, JARVIS began to repeat the numbers, binary and language that most couldn’t hope to ever understand. Tony let it wash over him, following along the stream in his head and waiting to see if there was a slip, a gap in the system- but there was nothing. 

Tony listened for an hour, just letting his AI’s voice wash over him. The code was all his- he could recognise his own style when he saw it- and the next time he spoke, it was to shut off the stream of data.

“Is- so how’s everyone doing?” Tony asked, flicking his eyes over to the window in his room and trying to see if he could spot anyone in the waiting area outside.

“They are all well. Mr Barton is currently attempting to storm his way out of medical, and Miss Romanov has been assigned baby-sitting duty. There were numerous recorded injuries from the battle, and there are still some Skrulls on the loose in New York, but the majority of them were forced out and retreated. The day has been saved once again,” JARVIS replied wryly, and Tony huffed out a laugh. “Where’s Steve?” He asked, because honestly, waking up in a hospital room without that big blonde presence by his side was slightly disconcerting at this point in their relationship. Steve was always there.

There was a short silence. Tony frowned. “JARVIS?” He repeated, firmer now.

“He... feels it will probably be more beneficial to your recovery if you are not in contact with him for a short time,” JARVIS replied slowly, and Tony’s brow creased further. What? Why would that make any sense at all? 

“Where is he now?” 

“Approximately 9 feet away, outside your door, sir,” JARVIS replied, “it appears he is standing guard. He has not allowed any doctors in as of yet- Doctor Banner is the only one who has been allowed entry at all, in fact.” 

Tony rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back on the pillow. Great. So Steve was just as fucked up as him about this whole shitshow- probably more, if Tony was being honest. Steve always got upset when Tony was hurt, and God only knew how he was coping with knowing that they used  _his_ face in order to trick Tony into trusting them-

He shuddered a little. Tony didn’t even know how well  _he_ was coping with that fact. God, this was all just such a mess.

 

He wanted Steve. He needed to talk to Steve about this. See if he was okay, too- Tony wasn’t the only one who lied about their injuries to get out of Medical, after all.

 

“Steve?” He said loudly. Loudly as he could, anyway. His throat was still painfully raw. 

There wasn’t a reply, so Tony said it again, a little more desperate this time. But still, all he got was silence. “Steve, you idiot, I know you’re out there, will you please just- just come in here and talk to me?”

After another lack of reply, Tony growled. “Right. Be like that,” he muttered, starting to slowly sit up, even though it spiked about twelve different monitors and sent spasms of pain jolting through his body, God, how badly had he been _hurt-_

“Sir, I wouldn’t recommend-” JARVIS began, but Tony waved him off, wincing as his leg shuffled slightly and sent another wave of numbed out pain rolling over him. 

“No, no- if he’s not coming in, I’m coming out. I want to see him, and I will even if I have to Goddamn crawl, Jesus, the stubborn bastard-”

Tony jerked as something scratched quickly against the door, and his head shot up when Steve suddenly slammed into the room, pushing through the door quickly. He couldn’t help but smile a little triumphantly as Steve cursed, hurriedly reaching Tony’s side and putting his hands on Tony’s chest and back, leading him back down onto the bed again. “Don’t do that, why- God, Tony, you’re hurt, can you maybe just stay in bed for longer than a single minute without trying to do something stupid-”

Tony grinned. Call him what you will, but he knew Steve better than anyone. That man’s ability to mother-hen someone into the next dimension would always overcome any stupid transient ideas that had been put in his head about what he thought was best for Tony.

Steve didn’t look at him as his hands guided Tony back onto the bed, and once Tony’s head hit the pillows, it looked as if he was going to just turn tail and leave immediately, but Tony made sure to wrap his hand around the man’s wrist and hold tight before a step could be taken.

“You know, you go anywhere, and I’m following,” Tony stated blandly, “so you maybe wanna rethink that whole ‘isolating yourself from me for my own safety’ thing.”

Steve scowled. “Tony-”

“You’re hurt,” he cut in before Steve could even get another word in, looking at him seriously. His thumb brushed up Steve’s forearm; touching lightly upon the raw red cut that ran all across his arm from where the blade had cut through him. It had been bandaged badly, almost certainly by Steve himself, and Tony had definitely seen a limp as Steve had pushed his way through the doors a few seconds ago. “Have you seen a doctor?”

The scowl reappeared, now with an added Clenching Jaw. “I’m fine.”

“Steve-”

“I’m not going to sit there and waste time getting checked when I need to be making sure no one gets in here, Tony,” Steve snapped, shaking his head, “they’re still out there. I won’t... they’re not getting you again. They’re  _not.”_

The last part was more an angry hiss than anything, but Steve still wouldn’t look Tony in the eye, and it made his heart clench painfully. He tightened his grip around Steve’s wrist and tugged. Steve came, more subconscious than anything.

“I know,” Tony said quietly, thumb rubbing slowly up and down Steve’s arm, “I know that. They won’t dare come near me now anyway. They don’t have the element of surprise. They wouldn’t risk it.”

“They did a week ago,” Steve answered, and his voice broke at the end of the sentence as he finally turned to look at Tony, “they risked it a week ago and you didn’t even notice.”

Tony’s face fell faster than he thought possible. 

Right. Steve was right. This was his doing, this was only happening because of his mistakes. Jesus, this whole thing would never even have happened if Tony had just-

 

“-No, Tony, baby, I didn’t mean it like that, come on, hey-” a soft touch caressed his face, brought it back up from where it had dropped in shame, and Tony focused back in on Steve, who had moved to crouch next to the bed and place his hand against Tony’s jaw. “Sorry. Sorry, Tony, honestly, this has nothing to do with you, okay, this wasn’t... I’m not saying that you should have realised, because there was no way you would have been able to do that. I’m saying that they’re good. They’re good and I’m not going to give them an opening if I can damn well help it.”

Tony looked at him; at the tense way he stood, and the barely contained anger still obvious on his face. Slowly, he pushed himself back up, despite Steve’s protests. Once he was half-upright, he drew his arms around Steve’s waist and pulled him in, until his nose was pushed up against Steve’s middle.

There was a moment when he thought Steve might push away, might hold his resolve and go back to standing there like an angry guard dog - but he didn’t. There was a single second until his resolve crumbled, and then Tony felt him melt around Tony, covering him protectively and breathing sharply as if holding back a sob.  Tony just clung, shutting his eyes tightly and stroking his fingers across the planes of Steve’s ripped shirt. He could feel Steve shaking around him, but his hold was delicate, almost desperately so.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered, “I’m so, so sorry. For what he did to you- it wasn’t- I know it looked like me and pretended to be me and he used- he used me to make you listen to him and I can’t stop thinking about it-”

“I know,” Tony mumbled, pressing his head a little further into Steve’s stomach, “it wasn’t your fault though, Steve. It will never be your fault. You saved me. If you hadn’t... I would’ve just followed him until I reached the point of no return, and then- and then-” Tony broke off, laughing wetly and hiding a shudder, “God only knows what they would’ve done with me.”

Steve’s head bent, and his hands moved until he cupped Tony’s jaw between them. “I would’ve got you back,” he whispered, “I would never... if it killed me, I would’ve got you back.”

Tony nodded. “I know,” he said again. His hand reached up and grabbed Steve’s as it rested on his face, letting his fingers fall between the cracks in Steve’s own. “Are you okay? Really?” He asked.

Steve took a breath and opened his mouth, automatic response on his lips, but it crumbled away before he could complete it and just...broke; his face falling as he wiped a hand across it and shook his head. “No. I don’t think I am.”

His breath hitched and his eyes closed tight, and Tony knew he was holding back tears. Wordlessly, Tony pulled Steve; manoeuvred him so he was sat next to Tony on the hospital bed, and then tucked his own head into the crook of Steve’s neck, letting the other man wrap himself around Tony. He knew that was what Steve needed right now. Confirmation.

 

“We survived,” Tony said quietly, own voice dangerously shaky as his hand rubbed across Steve’s neck, “we survived, Steve. They didn’t break us. He didn’t break me.”

 

He’d keep telling himself that, like a mantra, again and again and again, until it was true. It was how they coped. How they kept sane when things like this happened. They survived, and that was what mattered. Anything else was reversible. 

“I’ve never wanted to kill anyone more in my entire life than when I was stood there, watching him hold you,” Steve admitted softly, “never. Jesus, the things he said- I wanted to...” he laughed, hollow and sharp, “God. I don’t even know. That’s the scariest part. If anything had happened to you… you don’t understand, Tony, you’re _everything_ to me. You’re my future and you’re my whole fucking world and they were going to-“ he broke off as his voice began to get louder, more hysterical, and looked away. It took a while for him to compose himself again.  
“I’m not sure I would ever have stopped fighting. Not until all of them, every last fucking one was dead on the floor.”

“He didn’t, though,” Tony assured him, pulling back, letting Steve see him properly, “I made it out alright, didn’t I? You don’t need to do anything more, Steve, I’m here.”

Steve paused, flicking around Tony’s face until they stopped on his neck. Slow, tentative fingers came to rest upon the bruises that ringed around there. “My hands put those there,” he said quietly, shaking his head, “this was... they weren’t there when I first saw you.” Suddenly, his face drained of colour entirely, and he reared back, “he didn’t- oh God, no- Tony, please, tell me he didn’t force himself on y-”

“No!” Tony rushed forward, hands moving to Steve’s face, in his hair, the tips of his fingers stoking soothingly, “no, Jesus, he just threw me ‘round a bit, made some threats. Nothing- nothing like that, I swear.” He looked seriously at Steve, biting his lip as the other man tried to tear his eyes away from the hand-shaped bruises around Tony’s throat. “Steve, listen to me. I’m not holding this to you. You did everything you could. I know how to differentiate between the trauma given to me by an alien and the love of my life who would’ve burnt the whole Skrull fleet to ground if it meant getting me back.”

“ Tony, he was-” Steve looked down, shaking his head, putting his head between his hands. “How are you supposed to look me in the eye, touch me, share a _bed_ with me, without thinking of what he did to you? I can’t- I can’t do that to you.”

“Steve,” Tony found himself smiling, despite the situation, “Steve, baby- the only way I found out it was you was because your knee-jerk reaction was to keep me safe. Why would I ever doubt someone who does that for me? You’re... _I love you,_  Steve, and like you said, you’d do anything to make sure nothing bad happens to me. I'm not blind. Even I can see that.”

Steve was silent, just holding Tony in his arms and breathing. Tony was happy to let him do that for as long as he needed. Didn’t look like he was going to be leaving hospital any time soon anyway- not in the state his leg was in.

“They told me... they told me what they’d do to you,” Steve said, voice barely even a whisper spoken into Tony’s hair, “when they were holding me, they told me... how they were going to hurt you. Told me that the Skrull with my face was there with you, pretending to be me, and he was going to... God- you know I don’t even remember breaking out? It’s funny- I think I just blacked out. Too angry. They were all dead when I next zoned back in.” Steve’s face hardened, and Tony had never seen him like this before, never known him this shaken. “Good.”

Tony swallowed. “Is the implant still in your head?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded bitterly, “I tried to get it out when he told me what it did, I really did. But short of just taking a knife and cutting it off, it wouldn’t budge. I don’t even remember them putting it in.”

“Which one?” Tony asked into his shoulder, and Steve turned to him, confused.

“Huh?”

“Which one of the team had to convince you that stabbing yourself in the skull would end terribly? My bets are on Bruce or Thor.”

At that, Steve laughed. Shaky and soft, but there. “Uh- all of them, actually. Even Clint seemed to think it was a bad idea, which was disappointing. Expected at least one of them to be on side.”

They both laughed softly, and it hurt Tony’s- well, his everything- but he didn’t care. He was just relieved, to be honest. Overwhelmingly happy that he was finally back where he belonged. Almost high on the sensation of it.

Maybe that was the morphine. But he figured Steve had a lot to do with it, too.

“I love you,” Tony said quietly, pressing his mouth into Steve’s shoulder, “and whatever comes after this, we’ll work through it, okay? Please don’t think leaving is going to make it better. It won’t.”

Steve sighed. “Why are you comforting me? I feel like a tool- I should be the one looking out for you here- you’re the one with a hole in your leg.”

“To be fair, we both had a pretty shitty week,” Tony shrugged, hand finding Steve’s again. His were clean, but Steve’s still held onto flecks of dirt and blood. It was clear he hadn’t moved from sentry mode outside since Tony had been brought in.

There was the sound of voices outside, and Steve stiffened- but it was just Clint and Thor, both making a racket as they undoubtedly made their way over to Tony’s room. He sighed, smiling a little as he curled up closer into Steve’s body. The warmth was soothing and the drugs happily flowing through his system, and he knew he’d be out shortly.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Steve whispered, mostly to himself as he stroked Tony’s hair out of his face, “we’ll sort through this. I won’t let you down again.”

He shook his head. Steve was so stupid, sometimes. “Not your fault, idiot,” he mumbled, just as the door was flung open and two very loud individuals waltzed through the door.

He felt rather than saw the hand lift and the gun slide easily into Steve’s grip, but he just sighed. No doubt they’d come up with some sort of-

“Yeah yeah, I’m not a Skrull, Pi to 57 million places, blah blah blah,” Clint waved him off and made to step forward, but Steve slid back the hammer of the gun and shot him an unimpressed look, so Clint just huffed. “You really want me to do it? You want me to-”

“Steve,” Tony raised a hand, pressing down on Steve’s wrist gently, “JARVIS scanned them, remember? They’re good.”

Clint stuck out his tongue and batted his eyelashes at the same time. Tony turned back to Steve. “On second thoughts, just shoot him. It’ll be better for everyone.”

“Tony, are you well?” Thor asked, stepping forward. He made to give Tony what was probably a spine-breaking clap on the back, but managed to catch himself just before Steve did it for him. “I must say, you look like you’ve been thrown headfirst down a particularly steep ravine.”

“You know what?” Tony turned to him, nodding sagely, “I feel like it, Thor.”

“You’re forgiven, by the way,” Clint said, and above his head, Steve just rolled his eyes. 

“I said I’m sorry like, 10 hours ago when you first woke up.”

“You blew me up!”

“I didn’t blow _you_  up. I was aiming for the Skrull. You just got in the way.”

“Yeah, and thank God I did, or your boy would’ve been toast,” Clint muttered, and then turned to Tony, “an _d you’re_ welcome for  _that_ \- dammit, what do I need to do to get some validation ‘round here?”

“Uh, get me food?” Tony asked, waving a hand, “leave me in peace to nag my stupid boyfriend about getting his own injuries looked after, considering he’s just been through _torture-”_

“I’ll be fine Tony,” Steve said, just as Clint snorted a quick “I wouldn’t pin your hopes on that, buddy.”

Thor turned to them both, and he smiled, but it was tinted with seriousness. “This will not happen again,” he said grimly, “I will make sure of it. We are patrolling the hospital. The stragglers will be found and brought to justice.”

Steve didn’t say anything, but Tony knew he was internally claiming dibs on the captured Skrulls. Tony couldn’t say he blamed him. He’d got the first one himself, after all.

A memory that would undoubtedly follow him until death, for sure. Steve’s face, losing that light so fast, the moment of doubt in which he’d thought-

 

Steve squeezed his hand softly, and Tony gripped it back.   
Here. Now. They’d survived. And later, Tony was going to remember those blueprints for the Skrull Locator if it killed him, so that they’d never have to deal with that again. He’d never have to fail Steve like he had before. He’d use it every morning if he needed to. 

Not again.

 

“Hey, Tony?” Steve said quietly, and Thor and Clint had gone again, when had that happened? He must be pretty out of it. “You know what you told me about not blaming yourself?”

“Mm?”

A mouth against his cheekbone, lingering for a second, before pulling away and stroking with a gentle finger. “Listen to your own advice,” he said quietly.

Tony felt his own soft (if a little weighted with guilt) smile pull on his lips, and he sighed. Steve’s shoulder was warm. Steve was Steve. Maybe he had a point about the whole Advice shtick. 

“Just sleep, love,” Steve murmured, tentative hands still running across the planes of his back, over his shoulders, curling through the first strands of hair on his neck, “you need to rest.”

“So d’you,” Tony could feel his own eyelids drooping from the tone of Steve’s voice alone, damn him, he was far too good at getting Tony to sleep than he should have been.

“I’ll keep watch,” Steve said, angling his head in a little so that his nose was brushing against Tony’s. The breathed together quietly for a few seconds, and then Tony felt an impossibly soft kiss on his closed eyelid. 

“’s’gonna be okay,” Tony murmured, head lilting to the side a little and Steve huffed, his hand curling around the drooping cheek and keeping him from falling over.

“I should be the one convincing you of that.”

“Relationships work both ways, Rogers.” Tony turned his head, pressing an (admittedly messy) kiss into Steve’s open palm. “Stay here. Sleep with me. Please.”

Steve breath hitched a little, and he froze up again. “Tony, I don’t think it’s a good idea. What if you wake up and-”

“See you’re gone and then have no idea whether the next one coming through the door is you or not?” Tony interrupted, raising an eyebrow and cracking his eyes open a little despite their insistence on remaining otherwise. “Steve, please. I need someone to- I need you. I need to know this is real.”

“I’m the person they used to _hurt_ you, Tony, how are you supposed t-”

“Because you’re not them,” Tony pushed their foreheads together desperately, he needed Steve to understand, he needed Steve to _stay,_ “and Steve, no matter what I do, or how I react when I wake up next, I have to… I have to realise that it’s not real. How the hell am I supposed to learn otherwise? Please. Please, I hate-“ his voice cracked a little and he looked down, swallowing. “- I hate waking up alone in hospitals.”

There was a silence so long that Tony thoughts he’d failed- that Steve was going to stick to his stupid guns and leave anyway- but then there was a long sigh, and the feel of a smile against his forehead. “You have far too much control over me,” Steve said softly, pulling Tony down gently onto the hospital bed. He remained upright, but didn’t make to move.

Right. ‘Keeping watch’. Tony guessed he wasn’t going to be able to win that particular war. Not for a while yet.

Tony sighed. He knew this had been going to fuck Steve over, and he hated it. Hated it so fucking much. Tony- Tony had issues, and they were a very, very long list- but he knew what was real and what was not. He knew the Skrull was not Steve. And hell, maybe in a couple of days it would hit him, just what that fuck had done to him- but for the time being, he was okay. He just needed Steve to realise that. He needed Steve to _be there,_ more than anything. He didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened to him if Steve hadn’t been around to go after him in those tunnels. Probably a myriad of traumatising events. Welcome to the lavish Superhero lifestyle, Tony thought.

“Sleep,” Steve said, hand stroking Tony’s neck, taking extra care around the bruises. His eyes looked hollow and his lip red raw from being bitten, but Steve still looked unwaveringly beautiful to Tony.  
And he didn’t doubt the next person to come into the room who posed even the slightest of threats was going to get a bullet in their head. Which was …oddly comforting, if he was honest.

“Love you,” Tony told him, eyes fluttering shut.

“I love you too,” Steve said quietly, “get some rest, darling. You’re safe now.”

“Mm,” Tony muttered, already feeling the pull of unconsciousness begin to tug at him, “know I am. Got you, haven’t I?”

He reached out blindly for Steve’s hand, arm feeling heavy and thick, but unwilling to let up. He waved it through the air a little and felt as Steve caught it gently, wrapping his fingers between Tony’s own.  
He smiled, and the sensation of Steve’s fingers holding on tight was the last thing he felt.

 

 

* * *

 

**EPILOGUE**

 

 

_Tony stared at both of them. They both stared back. He took a breath-_

_twisted the gun and pressed the muzzle against his forehead._

_On the left, he watched as Steve’s eyes widened in horror, unable to stop himself jerking forward and sticking out a hand, a horrified “TONY_ _NO-”_ _being ripped from his mouth before he could even think about it._

_The one holding the knife just looked surprised._

_Tony turned to him, and with brutal efficiency, his hand moved, the gun shifted, and the bullets landed in chest, throat and head._

_The body dropped like a stone. The knife made a noise as it clattered to the floor._

_There was a brutal, deafening silence._

_Tony could hear his own breathing. That had been... fast. He hadn’t even stopped to think. He could see the replay in his head, in terrifying, agonising HD quality- Steve’s body, crumbling like a stone, the bullet in his throat leaking blood immediately, all from_ _his_ _hand, Tony’s own hands had done that, oh God, from his- he’d shot him, he’d killed him-_

_Steve made a sharp noise, turning to look at Tony, but Tony pointed the gun over to him as he snarled, hands shaking wildly, teeth biting down so hard on his lip that they drew blood. He could feel the tears slipping down his cheeks as he whispered “Steve Rogers, I swear to God, that better be you, that better be- I swear, it has to be, it has to....please, God-”_

_The last man standing turned to him, eyes wide. And then, slowly, he started to smile. “Oh, Tony,” he said softly, shaking his head, turning back to the corpse of Steve Rogers on the floor, “bit of a rash decision, shooting the only person who could save you, don’t you think?”_

_And then he was changing- shifting and jerking, skin turning back to the sickly green, Skrull form taking the place of what Tony had thought was Steve._

_He’d just killed Steve. He’d just shot the love of his life._

_“Yes, you did,” The Skrull said, stepping forward, picking him up by the collar_ , “you _made the mistakes here_ , you _cost him his life. You just murdered him, and now I’m going to show you what real pain looks like-“_

_Tony was screaming, screaming Steve’s name and trying to lift the gun again, but his hand was too heavy and he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he’d just killed St-_

 

 

“Tony, Tony- wake up, please, it’s a nightmare, it’s just a nightmare, love, come on-“

 

He jerked, eyes flying open as he shot upright in bed and coughed up a hoarse scream from his lungs. Sweat dripped down his temples, and his hands were aching from how tightly he’d been grasping at the sheets. Not even the sexy kind of grasping. The ‘oh fuck I’ve just had a horrific nightmare in which I shot my boyfriend multiple times in the head’ kind.

He breathed harshly, bending down until his head was nearly touching his knees. The lights in their room had turned on, bathing the surroundings in a familiar soft blue glow. JARVIS knew the routine by this point.

“Tony?” Came a soft voice to his right, and Tony spun jerkily, spotting Steve backed up against the furthest away wall, a tentative hand stretching out in worry, but a face that just looked drenched in guilt and self-loathing. “Tony, I’m not going to hurt you, okay, it was just a dream- I’m gonna step out of the room for a minute, if you want me- if you want me to come back, just call JARVIS, alright?”

 

“What? Steve- Steve, come back,” Tony shut his eyes tight and tried to wipe the image from his mind, focusing instead on the living, breathing man in front of him rather than the memory of a bullet between his eyes, a bullet Tony had put there-

“Tony, not yet, alright, you just had a nightmare-“ Steve choked a little, “-just had a nightmare about me, okay, I think you need a moment-“

“STEVE!” Tony said, more than a just a little hysterically, because he could hear Steve edging his way out of their room and he needed that to not happen, he needed to feel Steve was there, that he was alive, that Tony hadn’t… he hadn’t- “Steve, _please,_ come here. Please. Please, I need- _please-“_ his throat was thick and his face was hot, trying desperately to hold back a total breakdown, God, it was all he could see in his mind-

“Hey, hey,“ there was a drop in the bed as Steve crawled back on it in concern, and Tony just threw himself forward, bad leg be damned, letting Steve’s warmth seep into his bones like a balm, like confirmation, “it’s okay. Alright. I’m here. As long as you want me for.”

“Don’t leave,” Tony whispered, burying his head into Steve’s neck, feeling the pulse against his lips, “please don’t. I need you, I need- God, fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

“Sorry for what, darling?” Steve stroked his back, strong arms wrapping around him tentatively, like every action he did lately, always so tentative, “you did nothing wrong, it’s okay, it’s just a nightmare-“

“I shot him,” Tony hissed, clinging to Steve’s neck with his hands like it was the only thing that grounded him in the whole world, “I shot him and I didn’t know if I was right and what if it had been _you,_ huh? I would’ve just- just killed you, I could have… done _that,_ Steve, I’d been close, I’d been-“

“But you didn’t,” Steve rocked them both gently, and Tony just held on, eyes screwed tightly shut against his neck, “you didn’t, Tony. You knew me better than I knew myself, and it kept us both alive. You were so strong in there.”

“I watched you die, right in front of me,” Tony said, and the words were like a confession, sitting heavy on his tongue, “I watched the light fade out of your eyes because of me. I’m never going to forget doing that. That’s the worst thing that happened that day. I don’t care about everything else. I can handle everything else.”

There was quiet in the room; Steve gently rocking the both of them back and forth on the bed whilst Tony breathed ragged breaths and tried not to think about Steve’s blood on the floor of that tunnel. Eventually, the backwards forwards motion slowed, and Steve shifted back. Tony made a noise and tried to follow, but he was stopped by a hand on his chest, soft yet firm.

“Look at me, Tony,” Steve whispered, hand fitting under Tony’s jaw and tilting it upward as his thumb stroked across his cheekbone.

Tony looked up at him in the half-darkness, eyelashes still wet, and saw that Steve was smiling down at him. A little tired, a little broken, but that was to be expected. Tony had probably been screaming his name at the top of his voice just minutes ago.

“We both survived,” he said quietly, kissing Tony, feather-light on his mouth, “we both survived. Gotta hold onto that, remember? That’s what you always tell me. Everything else is-“

“Reversible, yeah,” Tony mouth curled up a little and he turned his down to the bed, “that’s bullshit though. Some things you just can’t forget.”

Steve was quiet at that. His legs were crossed around Tony, and his hands still rested just under his jaw, holding him close.  
“Forget, no, maybe not. Learn from?” Steve shrugged, smile tugging at his mouth. “Definitely. You made the locator. The Skrulls are being rounded up left right an’ centre as we speak. That’s thanks to you, Tony. You did it, despite their best efforts to stop you. Gotta find somethin’ worthwhile in that, yeah?”

Steve leaned down again, and Tony met him in the middle this time. They kissed slowly in the dark room, Tony’s hands gripping the fabric of Steve’s shirt whilst Steve kept him close and let his hands stroke through the mess that was Tony’s hair.

“Still wished you’d have let me be the one to finish him though,” Steve murmured, and Tony couldn’t help it, he laughed.

“We can’t always get what we want, sugar.”

“It would have been _really_ satisfying.”

“Hey, out of the both of us, I think I got first dibs there anyway.”

Steve stopped, weighing it out in his head. Eventually, he sighed. “Fair,” he muttered, swooping in to kiss him again.

“We could get one of the ones in captivity to turn into you if you’re _really_ desperate,” Tony offered, and this time it was Steve who chuckled, dropping his head with a shake.

“Is it bad that I’m actually considering that right now?”

“Uh, probably? Therapists would have a field day if they caught wind of that sort of behaviour, Rogers.”

“They already have enough ammunition on me as it is, thanks,” Steve smiled and kissed Tony’s nose, “I think I’ll just leave them with SHIELD, on second thoughts.”

Tony let his head fall into Steve’s chest. His heart felt normal again, at the very least. That was progress. God, he didn’t know what he’d do without Steve.

Suffer, mostly. No one to use as a human pillow. That would suck the most.

“Let’s get back into bed,” he declared into Steve’s shirt, whilst making no effort to move himself.

He yelped when Steve just fell backward, taking Tony with him so that he was lying on top of Steve’s chest with his hands braced on the man’s shoulders. Steve looked up at him with that usual soft look in his eyes, and Tony smiled down, kissing him soundly whilst his hands grabbed for the covers and tucked them both in.

“Better?” Steve asked quietly, pushing the bangs from Tony’s eyes with a thumb.

Tony nodded. He left his hand on Steve’s neck where his pulse thrummed as a reminder. As a promise. “We’ll be okay,” he mumbled, dropping his head into Steve’s chest and shutting his eyes.

He felt Steve’s hands wrap around his waist and his mouth press into the top of his head. “We will,” he said, and he sounded as if he actually believed that, which was nice, “it’s us. We’ve been through worse.”

Ha. Steve had a point, there.

 

Tony nodded to himself, shuffling a little until he was comfortable atop Steve’s chest, and then relaxed into the hold. It was late, and he was tired. Steve was here. Steve was alive. He didn’t need to worry.

 

His hand slipped into Steve’s again. He fell asleep with their fingers intertwined.

 


End file.
